Beautiful Soul
by SVUFanatic611
Summary: Sequel to One of Their Own. While SVU searches for the perp, everyone has to deal with the aftermath of Kathleen’s kidnapping. How will it affect them? How close is everyone to the breaking point?
1. Sleep Deprivation

Title: _Beautiful Soul _

Author: SVUFanatic611

Rating: PG-13

_A/n_ – This one starts where the other one left off. It's the late night of the day they found Kathleen. In this story, the trial will take place and we'll see Kathleen grow with the support of those around her. But the maturity won't come easily. To anyone.

Summary: Sequel to One of Their Own. While SVU searches for the perp, everyone has to deal with the aftermath of Kathleen's kidnapping, especially Elliot and Olivia. How will it affect them? How close is everyone to the breaking point?

Disclaimer: SVU and its associated characters are not mine. The title was based on the song 'Beautiful Soul' by Jesse McCartney. I have no claim on the song, although I must say, I listen to it often.

---  
**Bellevue****Hospital****  
****December 7, 2003****  
-****11:43pm-**

_Olivia Benson's POV _

"Casey, you ready to go?" I asked her. She was sitting in the chair, tired as the rest of us. Although we all wanted to stay for Kathleen and Elliot, Don made it an order to go home, sleep, and not come back unless we had all slept for at least ten hours. Ten hours? How could I possibly sleep for ten hours when my partner's daughter was in the hospital? When my partner's life was turned upside down?

"Yeah, but can you drive? I'm about to fall asleep," she said, her eyes half open.

"Sure, but I don't know how much better I'll be. I've been up for three days straight – going on four," I said, taking the keys from her. "Come on, Case, let's go," I whispered gently and put a hand out for her.

She lifted herself from the chair and we started out the door. "Wait, I forgot my briefcase," she said, now almost fully awake.

"Well, where'd you leave it?"

"In Kathleen's room, when we were visiting her."

I checked my watch. It was almost midnight. Chances were that Kathleen was asleep and I wasn't going to wake her up by going into her room to get a briefcase. "Look, Case, she's probably sleeping and I really don't want to wake her up. How about we get it tomorrow?"

"I have arraignment in the morning. I need it," she pleaded as if she was two-years-old. Or maybe she was just tired.

"Come on, but hurry up," I said, as we both walked to her room. I placed my hand on the knob and gently turned it. The door creaked open and the light from the lobby landed silently and gently on the sleeping figures of the Stablers.

Kathleen had been asked to stay over night for observation and her entire family never left her side. I didn't know if they were allowed to do that or not. I mean, they _had_ certain hours, but maybe Kathy had connections with the hospital or maybe hospital personnel realized that the words 'visiting hours' didn't apply to them.

We entered the room silently and I stared upon Kathleen, sleeping in Elliot's arms, on the bed, while Maureen was curled up in a chair with Dickie at her feet on the floor. Kathy was in another chair close to the head of the bed with Liz in her arms. I never broke my gaze while Casey retrieved her briefcase.

"Olivia? You okay?" she asked gently as she laid a hand on my shoulder. I never realized that tears were burning in my eyes and that my lip was trembling.

"I…I…" I began. I couldn't believe it. I was fine just two minutes ago. What the hell was the matter with me? I had kept my emotions in check the past three days and _now_ I've decided to break down? And in front of all the possible people, it had to be Casey Novak? Someone who, when I'm around her, my defenses go up and I never show any sort of emotion other than anger.

"Olivia? What's wrong?" Her voice is so gentle and so concerned. But, I feel like she's mocking me with it.

"I…I don't know. Maybe the past three days have caught up with me," I whisper as I jab at my tears. If I speak in anything above a whisper, I know one Stabler will wake up and I'll be seen as weak in another person's eyes.

"It's okay to cry, you know," she stated so matter-of-factly. "The day when we met in Cragen's office, I went back to my office and cried," she softly confessed, "until the river inside me had run dry. It's not fair what happened. Of all the people, Elliot and his family shouldn't have to endure this. Maybe _not_ crying is crazy."

I knew she was trying to offer me some sort of comfort – like she was justifying my crying, but I hadn't truly cried in three days. Would she have considered me crazy then? But, wait a minute. Why was I so worried about the impression I left with Casey? I had never before needed her approval.

Maybe it was because in a workplace full of men, I was considered "one of the guys". But, men don't normally cry and neither do I. Now that I wanted to, I needed a woman to stand by me. The closest woman I could find was Casey Novak.

"I…They're tears of joy, Case," I said, half of it being the truth. "For the last two days, I was beginning to think we weren't going to find her – like it was just going to haunt us forever," I said, walking over to the side of the bed and standing over Kathleen. My heart had melted and had been left at Casey's feet. My defenses had gone down and I felt like I could bear my soul.

But that didn't mean I wanted to. I _wanted_ the defenses up. I _didn't_ want to bear my soul. It's so much harder when you're under a microscope, especially when your co-worker is the one holding it. I felt like Casey was staring at me, waiting for me to screw up so she could find a weakness in me.

"But, now that you've found her, what do you think of it?" she asked softly.

"What do you mean?"

"You said that you felt it was going to haunt you if you didn't find her. Now that you've found her, what would you consider the situation?"

"Trying to shrink me?" I asked smirking.

"Just answer the question, Olivia," she said, rolling her eyes.

"I consider it…"

"What? What do you consider it?" she whispered, begging me for an answer. I felt for a minute she was Huang.

I turned back to Kathleen. I reached out my trembling fingers and gently brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes. "A miracle," I said absent-mindedly. "I consider it a miracle."

I turned back to Casey and found her smiling. "She made a believer out of you, didn't she?"

"Casey, I've been a believer in miracles. I've seen miracles before. An abused kid who leads a productive life; a raped woman who turns from victim to survivor; a victim's family who finds a sense of closure and begins the process of acceptance – those are all miracles. I've seen them before. I just don't see them all that often," I said, as if I was defending my weak beliefs.

"You'd just never thought you'd be part of making that miracle happen, did you?" she said, continuing to whisper. She strode over to me and stood behind me, staring at Kathleen also.

"I wasn't part of the miracle, Case. I didn't find her," I said, sounding defeated.

"That doesn't disregard any of the work you did, Olivia. That doesn't make the fact that you stayed up for three days straight and worked endlessly on this case any less important. You're right, you didn't find her, but you gave her something greater, Liv. You gave her a hand to hold, a person to lean on, someone to trust. You gave her courage, Olivia. _Don't_ belittle anything you did by saying you weren't part of the miracle because you didn't pull her out of a closet."

I turned toward her. "Munch said the same thing." It was stupid, I'll admit, but it was the only thing I could think of. What do you say to something like that?

"Yeah, well great minds think alike," she said, grinning.

"Come on; let's get outta here," I said, "before we wake someone up."

"Too late," she said, pointing to Dickie, who was stretching out the kinks in his neck, his eyes open.

"Olivia?" he asked sweetly. "Is that you?" He squinted through the dark.

"It's me," I whispered, walking over to him and kneeling to get to his level. "But, it's really late, sweetie. Casey and I just had to come to get something. I'm sorry we woke you."

"It's okay," he said through a yawn.

"You look tired, kiddo. Go back to sleep, okay?"

"Thank you, Olivia," he stated out of the blue.

"For what, kiddo?" I asked gently, as I pulled the blanket back over him.

"For finding Kathleen. You kept your promise. You said you were trying your best and that everything would be okay. You were right."

"Was there any doubt in your mind?" I said, smiling, joking around.

"No…just…my dad. I don't think he believed you, Olivia. He wanted to, he just…" he said as he drifted back to sleep.

"Goodnight, kid," I whispered, putting the blanket in its final resting spot.

"G…nigh…" he said, followed by a snore.

I brushed hair out of his face, just like I had done with Kathleen and stood up. "Come on, before I have to put anyone else back to bed. From the stories I hear from Elliot, once Liz is up, she's up for the day."

Casey and I walked out, closing the door behind us quietly and walked to the car in silence. "Case, you drive. You're awake now and I might drop here right now."

"Sure," she quickly agreed. I tossed her the keys and she caught them easily. We slipped into the car and she drove me to my apartment. I fell asleep at one point because as she drove up to the entrance to my building, she poked me to wake me up.

"Come on, Mary Sunshine, rise and shine," she said. I jolted out of my sleep and rubbed my eyes.

"Oh God, did I fall asleep? Why didn't you wake me up?" I don't know why I was making a big deal out of it.

"You were asleep for like five minutes. And, frankly, judging by the bag under your eyes, you could use all the sleep you could get."

"Gee, thanks, Case for the compliment."

"Always here to offer the truth," she said smiling. "Goodnight, Olivia. See ya in the morning."

I got out of the car and turned around before leaving. "Case, about what happened back in the hospita…"

"Don't worry. I won't be shouting from the rooftops tomorrow that Olivia Benson cried," she said.

"No, it's not that. Thanks for listening, you know? Just thanks for being patient." I couldn't believe that I was thanking her for it, but maybe it was deserved.

"Don't worry about it, Liv."

"Goodnight, Case."

I shut the door and I didn't hear her car move until I had entered the lobby of my building.

**SVU Squadroom  
****December 8, 2003****  
-****7:54am-**

_Third Person POV _

"What are you doing here, Olivia? I told you to get at least ten hours of sleep – eight hours ago. Care to explain?" said Don to Olivia as she entered and put her coat on the rack.

"Morning to you, too, Cap," she said as she sat down at her desk.

"I'm not kidding, Olivia. You haven't slept at all in three days. If you want to do the best on this case, you're gonna need sleep."

"I know that, Cap," she said as he sat on the edge of her desk. "I just…"

"Then what's the problem?" he asked softly. Olivia could tell that he was trying to open her up and have her release some tension that was so evident in the way she moved, the way she talked, and the way she acted.

"I would sleep…if I could," she said softly.

"Olivia…" he started sincerely.

"Don't worry about me, Cap. I haven't had a good night's sleep in about six years. Nothing new."

"Yes, it is new. This victim, you know. This one, you know how much she means to SVU's family."

"And it's just going to make me want this more. It's going to make me work harder. Don't worry about me."

They shared an awkward silence before Don spoke up again. "Elliot called me about an hour ago. He requested that you take lead detective on this one."

"I expected that," she stated simply.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay with it," he said with a shrug.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He exhaled deeply and whispered in her direction. "Olivia, I'm going to be honest with you. I had intentions of taking you off this case."

She looked sharply at him and retorted with, "Why would you even consider that?"

"Olivia, you're a little too close to this one."

"Damn right I am. It's Elliot's daughter for Christ's sake! It's a little to close to all of us."

"I understand that," he said, letting his voice override hers.

"Then you'll know not to take me off. Cap, listen, I'm beggin' you. I need to be on this case. I…I…I just do."

"I know that, Olivia…which is why you're lead detective," he said, letting her digest everything. She let out a sigh of relief when he spoke up again. "Under one condition."

"What is that?"

"Don't expect IAB to look the other way when we're investigating this. They don't care how close this is to you or us and they're waiting for us to screw up. They will jump on your ass and chew it off at the slightest bit of impropriety. That includes getting overzealous with suspects. You have got to keep your emotions in check at all times."

"I will, Cap. Don't worry about that."

"I know you will, but things come up, shit happens…which is why you've got scheduled sessions with Huang."

"Cap, no, I don't need them. I'm fine," she said, getting defensive.

"Let's keep it that way, Olivia. You take the sessions or you take ordered leave." She stared at him with eyes full of contempt.

"Cap, don't do this to me," she said in a hoarse whisper.

"It's not to you, Olivia. It's for you."

She stared at him once more. "Fine. When do they start?"

"Well, Elliot called here again about five minutes before you came. Kathleen's awake. Don't get her statement just yet, but let Kathy and Elliot know that we're going to need her down here when she gets discharged. The sooner the better. Take her statement and I also understand that Kathy and Elliot want to talk to you. You do that and then by the time you're done, Huang will be ready."

"Okay," she said, letting go of breath she didn't know she had been holding.

"Get down there," he said, heading back to his office.

Olivia got up, put her coat on, and headed for the door when Don stopped her again, walking back to her. "Olivia?"

"Yeah, Cap?" she answered, a little annoyed with the situation.

"It's not just you. I'm making everyone on this case visit Huang. I've also told Elliot that it would be best if he went, too."

"He's not going to go," she stated simply.

"You'd be surprised what he'd do when it comes to his one of his kids."

"What about Kathleen?"

"What about her?"

"She's definitely been through hell, Don. She's going to need help, too."

"Well, she's not my detective and I can't make her do anything. However, I mentioned it to Elliot and he and Kathy are going to look into it. Huang said he'd be glad to help them in any way possible. Including sessions for the siblings."

"Well, you've got everything worked out, don't you?" she said smirking.

"I've got everything worked out for them if they want it. If they do, they won't have to jump through a thousand more hoops. They've got enough to jump through right now."

"How about you? You getting shrinked?"

"I call him when I feel the need," he admitted.

"You're a good man, Don," she said quietly, squeezing his shoulder.

"I care about Elliot and his family just as much as you do. I wanna castrate this man just as much as you do, Liv, but remember what I said about IAB."

"I will, Cap."

"I'm serious, Olivia. I know I told you before to do whatever you needed to do, but she's home now. Everything we do is going to be under the microscope. We do it by the book, or we don't do it at all." His tone meant business.

"I know you're serious. I'm taking everything you're saying to heart. I understand. Don't worry."

"Olivia?" he started, again stopping her. "When you talk to Elliot and Kathy, you talk to them like any other victim's parents. If Kathleen doesn't want them to know certain details, you don't tell them unless it puts her life in danger. Understood?"

"Cap, you know how hard it's going to be to keep that from Elliot?"

"Yeah, I do, but you speak _to_ the victims, _for_ the victims, you answer to _me_. None of that applies to Elliot."

"Okay," she reluctantly agreed.

"Now, get down there. She's asking for you."

Olivia walked out the building, not sure where her loyalties lied. She could side with Cragen, disassociate herself and treat this in a completely professional manner, which might be for the best. She could side with Elliot and get herself involved so deep that she didn't know where she'd go. Or she could side with Kathleen and speak for her. She could just work her case and help her through any troubles she was sure to encounter.

She left the precinct with Kathleen's side pulling at her heartstrings.

---  
A/n – well, here's the first chapter of a long one! I know its a little slow start, but the pace will catch up, don't worry. Shoutouts to those who reviewed One Of Their Own are featured below. I treasure every single one of my reviewers, and although I cannot give a personal message to every single one of you, I have read every single of your reviews and I'm touched. You guys give me such support and guidance and I don't know where I'd be without you! I gave you a shoutout, but please don't feel offended if you don't get a personal message. I have a working bibliography due tomorrow on my term paper that is 90 percent of my third quarter grade. Pray for me!

_Amethyst Fluff_ – I wanted to thank you for your kind words in your review. They were heartfelt and I almost cried. ;) Don't worry, I know I didn't put Huang in the first one, and because I wrote as I went along, I looked back and I regretted it. To make up for it, I know somewhat where I'm going with this one ahead of time, and he's included in this one quite a bit. You'll see him in sessions with numerous people. I would tell you who, but I don't wanna spoil the surprise ;).

_BuriedNox_ – I not only updated two chapters of OoTO, but I updated one chapter of this one! I think it's time you updated yours! LoL! Just kidding, take your time, but just know I'm waiting patiently and have no doubt in your mind (because I have no doubt in mine) that I'll review. Thanks for your constant support during this endeavor and I'm sorry about you hating Kathy. Personally, I hate her, too, but I figured that Kathleen's kidnapping wouldn't pull them apart, but pull them together. Don't worry, I will be following canon as the story progresses, just give it time. Oopes! Did I just say that? Wink wink cough cough.

_shopaholic90_ – I really want to chat with you and I'm sorry it's taken me this long to respond. However, I don't have a clue how MSN works, and if you could leave in a review or something how it does, I'd love to chat!! Again, I'm sorry it's taken me this long to respond.

_jtbwriter_ – I'm glad to know that it was the best part of your assignment! I was touched when you mentioned that! Thanks for making _my_ day!

_FaithHopeLove _– I'm waiting for you to update!! You gotta update!! I'm so enthralled with your writing. You can't leave me hanging!

To all the others who have supported me through writing the other one! You're reviews are, and will always be, invaluable and I will always keep you guys in mind when it comes to suggestions and constructive criticism. I live off your guys' input and the fact that you took your time to review has touched me in so many ways. It's because of you guys I continue to write. Every single one of you! – Aseye, LawNorderLuver01, rose, SetYourMindFree, Hide-N-Seeker424, aserene, Stephanie, GalaxyTraveler, HPBeatles, Brittany4445, Cartly, musical Horatio mad, kerry, Connster97, Lauren, Diane, Singing Daisy, LiRA, Meghan-the-Melancholy, SammieJo, Tracy, Natalie, ZILENABLACK, Coz, Vertigo Mac, Kathryn, Gingerjohnson, Juicy Fruit Girl, and last, but certainly not least, Maya Beebop.

Also, I promised in _Talking To You, Blaming You_, that I'd mention those who reviewed Setting My Sights that I didn't mention earlier in another fic and I always keep my promises. ;) I also mentioned those who reviewed Talking to You, Blaming You, too – Here it goes – Angelfirenze, Rach, AngelsRCryin, Ty, jtbwriter, tany24, FaithHopeLove, Touchstone, SetYourMindFree, Wynter Nytes, and Emsta.

_Well, that's the end!!!! LoL! Actually, no it's not. I have one last note. I'm searching for a beta because the one I had isn't able to do it anymore. If you're interested, just let me know in a review. Thanks for reading through it and until next chapter, adios! –Jessica_


	2. IDs and Declarations

Title: _Beautiful Soul  
_Chapter 2

Author: SVUFanatic611

Rating: PG-13

**A/n**: Chapter 2 up! Just a warning, this is a long one. However, it includes more dialogue than anything, which, in my personal opinion, is easier to read than long paragraphs of detail. As another warning, Kathleen's statement is featured in this one, which includes rape and violence. Nothing more than the show features is included, but it's still a touchy thing.

Disclaimer: SVU and its associated characters are not mine. The title was based on the song 'Beautiful Soul' by Jesse McCartney. I have no claim on the song, although I must say, I listen to it often. I also have no claim to Polaroid cameras.

---  
I don't want another pretty face  
I don't want just anyone to hold  
I don't want my love to go to waste  
I want you and your beautiful soul

You're the one I wanna chase  
You're the one I wanna hold  
I won't let another minute go to waste  
I want you and your beautiful soul

Jesse McCartney – _Beautiful Soul_  
---  
**Bellevue****Hospital****  
****December 8, 2003****  
-****8:43am-**

Olivia walked into the hospital and made her way to Kathleen's room to find Elliot sitting in a chair outside the door, lost deep in thought.

"Don't think too hard. Wouldn't want you to pop one of the few brain cells you've got left," she said, handing him a cup of coffee that she had gotten on the way.

He lifted his head at her sarcastic comment and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He took the cup as she sat down. "You didn't have to get me coffee, Liv."

"I owed you for all the times you bought me some," she said calmly, trying not to look him in the eye. If she did, she would see the pain and devastation that lingered there.

"Who are the rest for?" he said, regarding the five other cups placed in a holder.

"Well, I figured Kathy and Maureen would want some and I got Kathleen, Liz and Dickie some hot chocolate."

"You didn't have to do that."

"You're right, I didn't. But, I did, so what are you gonna do about it?"

He smiled once more and took a sip from the cup. "You here to take her statement?" he asked in a monotone voice after swallowing the hot liquid.

"Not now, not here. But, I am going to need her to come to the stationhouse after she gets discharged today."

"Liv, I understand the process. I know the procedure. I know that you need her utmost cooperation to make this case work. And I know how much harder it can make solving the case when the victim won't cooperate. But, Liv, I…I…"

"What is it, Elliot?" she asked sweetly.

"I won't make her do anything that she doesn't want to. I know that sounds weird coming from a cop, but my daughter comes first. If she doesn't want to give you a statement, then I won't make her. I'm sorry, but…"

"Don't be sorry, Elliot. I understand."

He looked at her. He knew that the case had affected her. Then again, who _hadn't_ it affected? The story had made national news; the search stretching from every corner of the country. It was not lost on Elliot that she never made eye contact with him throughout the last three days. He had to ask. "Why won't you look me in the eye?"

"What?"

"You won't look me in the eye. Why?"

"Elliot, it's hard. Everytime I look you in the eye, it reminds me that not only have you been hurt irreparably, but so has your entire family, and most of all Kathleen. It makes my job even that much harder. I have to treat this like any other case. I have to treat Kathleen like any other victim."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you have to treat her like any other victim? Why can't at least one case be different? Why does my daughter have to be just another face in the mural of victims? Why can't she stand out?" he said, sounding slightly hurt.

"Because if I don't, I'll get too involved. And if I do that, then I won't be able focus, making it that much harder to find the bastard that's tearing both of your lives up. Cragen will probably take me off the case…"

"He won't do that."

"Yes he will, Elliot. He's already had the thought and if I overstep the boundary by even one toe, I'm gone."

"How'd you convince him to let you stay?"

"Well, it wasn't really 'convincing' as it was choosing one situation over another."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Cragen said, and I quote, 'You take the sessions or you take ordered leave.' And because you had requested me to be lead detective, I couldn't take the ordered leave, so I…"

"Took the psychiatric sessions with Huang," he said, completing the thought.

"Good to know you haven't lost the detective in you."

"It's never gonna leave me," he said smiling.

Before either could respond, Liz and Dickie came out of the room, Liz falling onto his lap and Dickie standing right in front of him. They both greeted Olivia with groggy 'hi's'.

"What are you guys doing out here?"

"Mom wanted us to find you and find out what you were doing. I think she wants you to come back inside," answered Dickie. Olivia saw him eyeing the cup labeled 'hot chocolate' hungrily.

"And these," she started as she grabbed two cups out of the holder, "are for you guys."

"Thanks, Olivia," they answered in unison.

"Guys, go back in there and tell your mom that Olivia is here and I'll be in there in a minute."

"Okay," Dickie answered, but Liz didn't follow when he went back into Kathleen's room.

"Sweetheart, why don't you go in there with 'em, okay? I'll be there in a minute. I promise," Elliot said, kissing her head and lifting her off of his lap.

"I don't wanna, Daddy. Kathleen looks really sad and upset and I don't know how to make her feel any better," she answered, staring at the ground.

Elliot put his arms around her waist and brought her into a hug. "I'll tell ya what. How about you go ask Kathleen to help you with that math homework you've been having trouble with? Maybe that'll make her feel better."

"Why would math make her feel better? Nobody likes math," she said, genuinely confused.

Elliot laughed, pulling his daughter out of the hug and Olivia let out a laugh that relieved some tension. "I meant that she always likes helping you with your homework," Elliot said, smiling.

"Oh," she said. "You sure she'll like that, because I don't know…"

"She will, trust me."

"Okay, but if she gets mad or if she does that thing she does where her eyes roll and she sighs at the same time, I'm gonna blame you."

"Deal," he said, patting her back as she went back into the room. As soon as Liz opened the door, Kathy came out, looking tired, but who didn't after all that had happened?

"Morning, Kath," said Elliot. As she sat next to him, she greeted her husband and his partner. Olivia handed her the coffee and she quietly thanked her.

"How's she doing?" asked Olivia, breaking the ice.

"Um…" began Kathy, tucking some hair behind her ear, "she's okay. Most of her wounds are superficial and the ones on her back will heal with some time. Psychologically, I'm not sure how she's doing. She seems fine, but I know it goes deeper than that."

"About that, Kath, Cragen mentioned sessions with Huang. Maybe we should…"

"We'll look into it. Let's just focus on getting her home."

"We might have to make a stop at the station first so Kathleen can give her statement," continued Elliot, taking her hand in his.

"But it's completely up to her, though, Kathy. I won't make her do anything she doesn't want to," Olivia chimed in. She had to let them know she was on their side as well as Kathleen's. She just wanted the best for her, and who knew her better than her parents?

"No, she wants to give her statement. She's been asking for you all morning. I think she just wants to get it over with," Kathy replied.

"Come on, Liv. I'll go kick everyone out so you two can talk," Elliot said, standing. Olivia followed behind him. She and Elliot walked into the room and found Kathleen sitting on the bed with one arm wrapped around Liz, who was holding her math book. Kathleen was explaining the problem on the piece of paper.

"…then you subtract your like terms. Like, you can subtract 2x from 8x and you would get 6x. Now you can divide by six on both sides to get four as the value of x."

"Oh, I get it now! I didn't know you can do that!"

"Glad I could help," Kathleen said, smiling at her sister.

"Hey, guys," said Elliot. "Kathleen, Olivia wants to talk to you, that okay?"

Kathleen looked up at Olivia and gave a barely-there smile. "That's fine," she answered softly. "Liz, why don't you go finish up to problem eighteen, then by the time your done, Olivia and I should be finished, okay?"

"Okay, thanks, Kathleen."

Liz passed the two partners into the lobby, and Elliot shared a soft, gentle glance with Olivia as he shut the door.

"Well, what's up?" asked Kathleen, wrapping her arms around her knees as she tucked them into her chest and resting her chin on them.

"I wanted to talk to you about your statement."

"Are we going to do it here, right now?" she asked worriedly.

"No, we're not. But, I want you to come down to the station after you get discharged so I can take it."

Kathleen gave an imperceptible nod. "Okay," she agreed quietly.

"I promised your dad that I would give you the option of whether or not to give a statement. If you don't want to, you don't have to."

"No, I want to," she answered weakly. Olivia walked over to the hospital bed. Facing her, she sat on the bed and looked Kathleen in the eye.

"Kathleen, will you make me a promise?" she asked as she met Kathleen's eyes.

"Yeah, I guess. Depends on what it is."

"Will you promise me that no matter how bad things get, you'll know that you have people who love and support you and would die for you to be happy? Will you promise me that no matter how crappy you may seem, one of us will always be willing to cheer you up? Will you promise me that if you feel you can't talk to anyone, you'll at least know that I'm always going to be there to listen? That your family loves you and only wants the best for you?"

Olivia and Kathleen held their gaze. Kathleen blinked her tears away, swallowed the emotions lurking around in her throat, and took Olivia's hand in hers. "You…you…you would die for me?" she asked incredulously.

Olivia placed her other hand over Kathleen's and kept her stare. "In a heartbeat, Kathleen. In a heartbeat."

Kathleen let her tears fall and she took Olivia into a hug. Holding on so tight, she gently whispered in Olivia's ear, "I promise, Olivia. I promise."

Olivia returned the hug, making sure to be careful of the wounds on her back, and let some tears escape her glassy eyes.

"I know you probably already have your dad's, but this is my card. On the back, are my house number and my cell. You can call me, day or night, 4am or 1pm. I'll always be there to answer and to listen. Okay?"

Kathleen took the card in her hand and looked up at Olivia. "Okay," she answered with a small smile.

"You're a terrific girl, Kathleen. Don't let anyone take that from you or tell you different."

"Thank you, Olivia. Thank you for everything. I know how much you helped my family when I was gone and I know that you kept my dad pieced together. And I know how hard that can be. Thank you."

Olivia didn't feel like she should be thanked, that she was just doing her job. And she didn't think that Kathleen would be thanking her when she was taking her statement; making her relive every detail, every touch, smell, sound - making her go down the road that she was trying desperately to get a one-way ticket back from. But, she didn't argue and accepted the appreciation.

"I think Liz is itching to get back in. I'll be at the station waiting for you, okay?"

"Okay," she said as she took Olivia into another hug.

**SVU Squadroom  
-****9:28am-**

"Benson, can I have a minute with you?" asked Lennie Briscoe as he entered the 1-6.

Olivia turned around in her chair and stood as he inched closer to her. "Sure. Listen, I'm sorry I was kinda out of it when I saw you at the crime scene. I was really stressed and…"

"No, don't think twice about it. I get it."

"Thanks. So, what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?"

"It's about the vic. The COD was drug overdose."

"That's terrible, Briscoe, but what does it have to do with SVU?"

"Well, we found trace evidence on the body and it puts her in Sanchez's house. Isn't that where you found Kathleen?"

"Yeah," she answered reluctantly.

"And we found something else that might be interesting." When he knew he had Olivia's attention, he continued. "We ran a DNA check on her and an indirect match came up."

"What do you mean?"

"Her name is Megan Harris. We found her father's DNA."

"And who's he?"

"Officer Leo Harris. He was the one who got shot during the bust."

"So, let me get this straight. This girl was missing, kidnapped by Sanchez. She gets murdered by drug overdose and when you go to ID her, you find that she's the daughter of a Narcotics officer, Leo Harris, who incidentally was murdered while trying to bust his daughter's kidnapper and murderer."

"You get an A plus in paying attention, Detective."

She ignored the comment. "Do you have anyone to release the body to? I mean, who filed the missing person's report?"

"We didn't find one. However, we found Harris's ex-wife. She resides in Albany and we went to go talk to her. She said that Megan had a terrible habit of running away for days at a time, going into the city to visit her father, and then coming back. So, when she was gone, she didn't worry about it."

"What about Dad? He didn't file one?"

"We went to his apartment that he and his girlfriend were living in. According to her, Megan never made it there."

"Well, how long had Mom said she was missing?"

"Three days before her death."

At that point, Olivia saw Kathleen, along with Kathy and Elliot, round the corner and enter the squadroom.

"Briscoe, did you come down here because you wanted to give the case to us?" she asked, getting to the nub of the matter.

"Well, let's see. Sanchez is being investigated by not only this precinct, but also Narcotics, which is means for difficult arrest. I didn't think you guys needed a third precinct on your back to deal with. Is that what you want, because I can…"

"No. That's fine. Thanks, Briscoe."

"No problem. Here's the evidence we've got so far. There are crime scene photos in there as well," he said, handing her a manila folder. "If you want any more details or any questions, come see me, Green, or our ME."

Olivia took the folder, thanked him and then acknowledged Kathleen and her parents. After Briscoe had extended his best wishes to Kathy and Elliot and welcomed Kathleen back home, he left. Olivia took Kathleen, who was wearing the gray sweats the hospital had given her, and guided her to the interview room.

"Is there anything I can get for you? Water? Coffee? Fruit punch?" she asked as she pulled out a chair for Kathleen to sit in. She knew the captain was on the other side, which meant that there was no room for screw-ups, tears, emotions – at least no more than what was usually expected.

"No thanks, Olivia. I wanna get this over with as soon as possible."

"I understand," said Olivia, also taking a seat and getting out her notepad.

"So, where do you want me to start?"

"How about you start talking, and I'll fill in anything I need to know with questions."

Kathleen nodded and wrapped her arms around herself as she began her story. "Well, my friend, Greg Dean, and I had decided to go to the library after school to look up facts on an Aztec empire paper that was due in two weeks."

"What time was that?"

"It was right after last period, so about, four o'clock." Olivia nodded for her to continue. "I called my dad to check in and he said that I had to get home. That was a little after five. We checked out the books and went our separate ways. I was walking down the street and about five minutes after I had left the library, I felt someone's arm wrap around my neck." Kathleen's hand instinctively went to her neck, gently stroking the bruise of purple and blue that colored it.

"What happened next?"

Tears started to overcome Kathleen. "I…I…I kicked, elbowed, bit, punched, and fought anyway I could. But, he was so much stronger," she said, her glassy eyes meeting Olivia's sympathetic gaze. "But…he dragged me down some alley and threw me in a car that had been waiting there already."

"Was it parked or was it running?"

"It was running. He threw me into the backseat and put a blindfold on me. But someone else _had_ to be in that car."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because, when he threw me into the car, he got in the back with me. He kept his arm wrapped around my neck, but I felt the car moving. Someone else had to be driving that car."

"Do you know where he took you after he put you in the car?"

"He took me to some hotel; at least I think it was a hotel. He shoved me into a room, threw me onto a bed, took off my…" Kathleen finally broke and sobbed gently into her palms that were covering her face. Olivia placed a reassuring hand on her wrist.

"I can't even begin to imagine how hard this is for you, but you gotta tell me what happened, okay? I gotta know what went on so I can put this bastard away."

Kathleen shook her head and took a deep breath before continuing again. "He took off my p…pants, tied me up with ropes, and d…duct-taped my mouth. I knew he was taking pictures of me. I could hear the camera go off every time he pressed the button. It was one of those old cameras, you know? The ones that as soon as you take it, it comes out and you have to wait a few minutes for the picture to come to color."

"Like an old Polaroid?"

"Yeah, one of those. After he was done with those, he carried me back to the car with my pants still off and threw me in. We drove to my house…"

"How did you know it was your house? Was your blindfold still on?"

"Yeah, it was. But, he was saying, 'Next stop: Stabler residence. Let's kiss Daddy good-bye, shall we?' I felt the car stop and he got out. I tried screaming, but the duct tape was still over my mouth and the man in the driver's seat hit me and told me to shut my mouth. He got back in the car, and took my underwear off. He r…ra…raped me right there in the car on the way to his house. He didn't stop! I begged him to stop and he didn't! He just…he just kept…" Kathleen broke up into tears again.

"It's okay, Kathleen. Just take your time."

She took another deep breath, hoping it would help her. "The car stopped, he put my underwear back on, k…kissing my legs as he brought them on my hips. Then he p…put my jeans back on and kissed my stomach when he buckled them. He threw me over his shoulder as he got out and carried me to the door. I tried kicking him, but he threw me down into the grass and kicked me until I apologized."

"What happened next?" she asked cautiously as Kathleen got up and began to pace.

"He brought me into the house and put me on the couch. That's when he untied the ropes, took off my blindfold and took the tape off of my mouth. I screamed as soon as he took it off, but that's when he punched me and the other guy who was driving came over to me, ripped off my shirt and…and…he began kissing me all over. He bit me in a couple places and told me that if I ever screamed again, he'd bite me h…harder in more s…sensitive p…places…"

Kathleen began to pace faster and her breathing became more staggered. "Kathleen, are you sure you don't want anything? Maybe some air?"

"No, I'm fine," she answered as she rapidly wiped away the tears that were turning into rivers, flowing gently from her eyes all the way down to the bottom of her chin. She took in a breath, filled with stale air and her arms wrapped around herself in fear. She sat down, getting lightheaded.

"What happened next, Kathleen?" Olivia asked gently.

"Th…they kept me on the couch, my shirt off and everything and walked off into another room," Kathleen told her as she softly and almost imperceptibly rocked back and forth, arms still wrapped around herself, staring into space. "They told me if I moved, I would pay. I tried to sneak away, but I was so scared. I should have done something. I should've run. I should've…"

"Kathleen, listen to yourself. You've been telling me that you fought back every chance you got, and everytime they responded with violence. If it was me, I don't know if I would have done anything different," Olivia tried to assure her. "You did all you could and you're safe. That's all that matters."

Kathleen softly nodded her head and continued. "They came back with a whip. They said if I put up a struggle, they'd use it. When they came over to me, they r…ra…raped me again and they made me…they made me…they…"

"What, Sweetheart? What did they make you do?" asked Olivia as she got up from her seat, made her way to Kathleen's side of the table and bent in front of her, placing her hands reassuringly on Kathleen's shoulders.

Kathleen continued to rock back and forth, trying not to look at her dad's partner. "They…they made me p…per…perform or…oral s…sex on them. They made me! I said no! I screamed it! But they just kept…they never stopped, Olivia. I begged them to, but they never…" she sobbed, falling into Olivia's arms.

Olivia openly accepted Kathleen's embrace and stroked her back until she calmed down. "Shhhh…it's okay. You're safe now. It's okay," she cooed her. "You're gonna be just fine."

After Kathleen calmed down, she continued with her story, shaky as ever. "That's when they…they made me shower with them and they raped me again. They put my bra and un…underwear back on and threw me in the…the closet for the rest of the days," she said simply, hoping that would complete her story, but knowing Olivia still had questions to ask.

"When did they use the whip on you?" she asked, knowing she had to, but hated it anyway.

"They told me that they had company coming over and if I had made one noise, they would whip me. I…I…just didn't care anymore, Olivia. I figured I was going to die anyway. And I wasn't going to let myself die because of dehydration or starvation, but of struggle. I wanted to go down fighting. I screamed as loud as I could when I thought I heard the company arrive. That's when he came in, forced me out of the closet, threw me on the bed, undressed me, raped me, and whipped me. I know he would have gone on, but the other man came in and said the people were here. He threw my clothes back on and threw me back into the closet, tossed some clothes on top of me and left me there. I must've passed out or something because the next thing I know, Fin's pulling me out of the closet and calling you guys."

"Did you get a good look at him?" She knew who did this. It was no question Sanchez and his guy were the ones. But Kathleen had to ID him. She had to make sure she had an idea what she was looking for.

"He was Hispanic, about six feet, dark hair, brown eyes, muscular build," she answered simply.

"What about the man who was driving?"

"He was the same, only he was a little more stout."

Olivia jotted down some notes and when she looked up at Elliot's daughter, lost in thought. Of course she would be thinking, with all that had gone on, but Olivia sensed something different.

"What's on your mind, Kathleen?"

She jerked out of her trance and leaned back in her chair, keeping eye contact with Olivia. "I…I…I didn't know him, Olivia. I've racked my brain for the past three days trying to figure out if I knew him or not, but I don't. But he knows me, or at least he knows my dad."

"What made you think that?"

"He…when he was r…raping me, he said something to me." When Olivia's undivided attention settled on Kathleen, she continued. "He said, 'I'm sure this is how Daddy would want it to be, Kathleen. You're Daddy's little girl and we wouldn't want to disappoint him, would we?'" Kathleen recited with disdain and disgust dripping from every word that came out of her mouth as she imitated his words.

Kathleen wanted to leave that comment alone, not wanting to discuss it and Olivia sensed it. So, she went on to something else. "Kathleen, no matter how hard this is going to be, you got to tell me the truth, okay?

"Okay," she whimpered.

"Do ever remember seeing another girl in that house?"

"No. As far as I was concerned, I thought I was the only one."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive, Olivia. Why?"

"Another girl was identified. Trace evidence puts her in Sanchez's house. Her last day in that house was your first night."

"Is she okay? What happened to her? Is she still alive?" she asked worriedly.

"She was murdered," Olivia cringed.

"What?" Kathleen sobbed loudly. Blood didn't run through her any more, guilt did. "You mean that while I was in that closet, she was being murdered? I didn't even know it? I didn't do anything about it?" she sobbed louder, getting up and slowly backing away from Olivia and the table.

Olivia got up and softly followed Kathleen; she had to stop against the wall sometime. "There's nothing you could've done, Kathleen. This isn't your fault," she tried to persuade her. Kathleen's eyes were filled with overflowing tears and she vigorously shook her head.

"No, No! I was stronger than she was! She was being tortured for three days; she couldn't defend herself! I was still strong. I could've fought for her! I was too busy being selfish!" Kathleen's back hit the wall and she fell against it, melting to the floor. She buried her head into her tucked knees and the cries could be heard throughout the room.

"Kathleen, listen to me," Olivia pleaded as she got to the ground on Kathleen's level. "This is _not_ your fault. There is nothing you could've done differently. You_ cannot_ blame yourself for what he did." Olivia tried to have Kathleen look at her, but her face laid tucked in her knees, her entire body shaking with fear.

Kathleen picked up her head, ignoring the puddles of tears on her face and searched Olivia's expression. "Who is she, Olivia?"

"Why do you want to know that?"

"What is her name, Olivia?" Kathleen persisted.

"Megan Harris," she answered, as Kathleen's face contorted with more pain, anguish, and guilt.

"I knew her," she managed to get her out. "I knew her, Olivia. She was a sophomore at my school. She…she had a little sister who's on Liz's cheerleading team. When I went to pick up Liz, she was there, and we…we started talking. Her dad's a cop, too. I guess we…we bonded over that," she mustered up, taking deep breaths.

Olivia stared at Kathleen and gently brushed a tear from her cheek, not that it dried her face in any way. "This is not your fault, Kathleen. You have to know that."

"O…Ol…Olivia," she tried to get out, but her shortness of breath prevented her from it. "I n…need air. I feel like I'm g…going to th…throw up."

"Come on, I'll show you where the bathroom is," Olivia said, offering her hand to Kathleen. Kathleen accepted Olivia's hand and let her lead her to the bathroom.

Kathleen barely made it to the stall and she became violently sick. Olivia came kneeling to her side, holding her hair, and stroking her back. Kathleen wiped the corners of her mouth and fell limply into Olivia's embrace.

"It's okay, Kathleen. Things will get better, I promise."

"Are we done? I wanna go home, now."

"Yeah, we're done. Come on, I'll walk you out."

They got up, Kathleen rinsed her mouth out, and they exited. Kathleen ran up into her father's strong arms and began sobbing gently again. The pain on Elliot's face was evident, but he wrapped his arms around his daughter and let her cry her pain out. He knew he had to get her home, as did Kathy.

He wanted desperately to talk to Olivia, to know every detail of her statement. But, she stood back, leaning against the wall as she watched the family. Without words and with a nod of her head, she said good-bye to Kathleen, her partner and his wife, wishing them only the best. They nodded as well, thanking her, and left silently. Everything that needed to be said, wasn't, but the point was made. The love of the family and the extended love of SVU would never end and would always be there.

"Olivia…" Cragen started, seeing the entire exchange.

"I know, Cap. Can you call Huang and tell him I'll be over in about twenty minutes?" she asked, finally looking Cragen in the eye from across the room.

"I will. Olivia, after that, don't bother coming back for the day. Go home, get some sleep. We'll start tomorrow."

She nodded, grabbed her purse and her jacket and left, trying to prepare herself for what her own psyche held, for what flowed inside her own emotions.

---  
A/n – this is a really long one, but I hoped you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think! Also, a big thanks goes out to all my reviewers! You guys are really great! Love you all!

_C. T. Torris_ – I want to take your offer for betaing, but the address got cut off in the review, so I didn't know what service to send it to. If you could just leave the name (i.e.: AOL, Yahoo, Hotmail, etc.) in the review without the ", that would be great. Thanks for the offer. I appreciate it!

Until next chapter, adios! -Jessica


	3. Confidential

Title: _Beautiful Soul  
_Chapter 3

Author: SVUFanatic611

Rating: PG-13

**A/n**: Chapter 3! Well, my penname was mysteriously changed to SVUFanatic. I don't know how. But, when I tried to change it back, it wouldn't work. If any one could help me with that, it would be great, but I guess I'm just SVUfanatic for now:) Oh, and another long one…but you guys don't seem to mind, so enjoy! Although, there is some angst is this one.

Disclaimer: SVU and its associated characters are not mine. The title was based on the song 'Beautiful Soul' by Jesse McCartney. I have no claim on the song, although I must say, I listen to it often.

-  
**Office of Dr. George Huang  
****December 8, 2003****  
-****10:24am-**

"Morning, George," said Olivia, as cheery as she could as she knocked on his half-opened door.

"Good morning, Olivia. Come on in," he replied, standing and closing the door as she walked in.

"Look, George, I'm going to be honest with you. I know I'm not as 'anti-psychiatrist' as Elliot is, but I really don't want to do this," she began, taking a seat on the couch.

"Why not?" he asked simply. Olivia knew that as soon as she answered, the shrinking would begin. Every word would be interpreted, every action brought into thought, and every emotion analyzed.

"Because I think it's a waste of my time. Every minute I spend here, I could be at the station, or out in the field trying to find who did this to Elliot."

"I thought _Kathleen_ was raped," he said, taking a seat next to the couch. Great, Olivia thought. You've been here not even a minute and you already screwed up your wording. She decided to ignore it and act like she didn't know what he was talking about.

"She was. What do you mean?"

"You said Elliot."

"Look, George, I don't know where you're going with this."

"You said you didn't want to be here because you want to find the man that hurt Elliot. I thought Kathleen was the one that got hurt."

Olivia sighed heavily to prove her annoyance. "You know what I meant. When that man hurt Kathleen, it just as bad as if he had pulled a trigger into Elliot's heart. I guess when I said 'Elliot,' I meant his entire family."

George nodded and was searching for the next topic when Olivia opened her mouth again.

"Look, Elliot lives for his family. He doesn't breathe air, he breathes his kids. Everytime they get hurt in the slightest way, it's like a part of him gets ripped out. When this happened to Kathleen, they didn't take just a part, but his entire self, like his entire heart. They cut off his oxygen supply."

"Good analogy," George commented, smirking.

"Yeah, well, I get Elliot. I understand him. He's a good man and I just don't want him to get hurt anymore."

"What would hurt him more?"

"Me not finding Sanchez. Me not bringing the bastard to justice."

George assumed that Sanchez was the perp. "And you think that these sessions stand in your way of doing that?"

"It prevents me from doing it in a timely manner," she answered, leaning back on the couch, trying to end the conversation.

"But these crimes take a psychological toll on you – every day. And every once a while everything just comes to a head with a certain case. They're normally cases that hit close to home. But when someone has all this pent up aggression or emotions, they can get out of control. I know Elliot and I know that he's like a big brother to you. Don't you think Elliot would want you to go to these sessions - to prevent you from hurting yourself or someone else?"

"Are you trying to convince me that these sessions are good for me? To keep me coming? If you are, save your breath. I _have_ to keep coming back. It's a requirement for this case."

"Just answer the question, Liv."

Olivia shrugged. "I don't know."

George smirked. "I thought you said you understood Elliot."

"Yeah, I do, but…" she trailed. " I mean, he _could_ feel that way. He could feel like these sessions are beneficial to me. But, Elliot hasn't had a good track record with psychiatrists. He could feel that they're a waste of time for me and he could be fearful, because if I say the wrong thing, I could be taken off the case for it. And that's not good. To anyone."

"But you said that these sessions are a requirement for you to be kept on the case. Don't you think that Elliot wants you to come for at least _that _reason?"

"How'd we get on the subject to Elliot, anyway?"

"Answer the question, Liv," he reminded her again.

"Yeah, I guess. Sure," she said, hoping that was the end of that part of the conversation.

"Walk me through the day you learned Kathleen was kidnapped," he requested.

"Well, I got to work. Elliot and I had paperwork to finish. Munch and Fin had caught a rape, so they were gone most of the day. About noon, Elliot and I went to lunch. We came back, looked over an old case, and at about six, we called it a night. He went home; I stayed for awhile, looking over the files. I was about to go home, but Cragen came out of his office and said a sixteen-year- old had been kidnapped. He handed me the address and that's when I found out Kathleen had gone missing. The three of us drove over to Elliot's. I talked to him and Kathy and when I got back to the precinct, John and I started canvassing and talking to people."

"So, Cragen didn't tell you it was Kathleen who had been kidnapped?"

"No, I found that out when I read the address."

"Did that make you feel uncomfortable or hurt in any way that Cragen didn't tell you? That he let you find out on your own?"

Olivia shook her head. "No. He probably felt he wasn't the right person. I understand that."

"So, let me get this straight. Elliot finds out his daughter's missing and he called Cragen?"

"I wasn't there. I guess. I mean, how else would have Cragen known?" she asked, trying to make her point.

"Does it hurt you that Elliot didn't call you?"

Olivia thought for a second. He could've called me, she thought. "No, not really. I mean, sure, he could've called me. But, Cragen always knows what to do. He's the experienced one. He knows how to handle every situation. But, me – I'm his equal. We have the same thought process. If he didn't know what to do, why would I? I'm kinda glad he called Cragen. I wouldn't have known what to do."

"You know, you're doing a good job of analyzing here," he commented.

"Yeah, well, I figure if I get to it first, this will go quicker," she replied, getting up from her place on the couch and starting to pace.

"Okay," he started, moving on, "what did you do at lunch? Where'd you go?"

Olivia sighed again. She really didn't see the point in all of it, but whatever got her out of there was fine with her. "We…uh…we went to the usual place. It's that little deli about two blocks from the precinct."

"What did you guys talk about?" He needed to dissect the last hours of the time she had spent with Elliot. He could use the information for perhaps Elliot's session and maybe it would help Olivia in the long run. Maybe it would just fill the time she wanted so badly to be up.

Olivia let out a light scoff at the question. She turned on her heel and faced George. "His kids," she said simply. "We talked about his kids. His family."

"What about them?"

Olivia sat back down. "Well, he mentioned that Maureen had really gotten into writing and was thinking about writing a book, maybe becoming a literature teacher. We talked about the fact that he knew what a pop cradle and a liberty were because of Liz's cheerleading. He said that she was really getting into it and loved competing. I remember mentioning that he'd like when she was in high school. All the jocks love cheerleaders and that they can't keep their hands to themselves," she mentioned, staring at the ground, letting a small smile tug at the corners of her mouth. "He slapped me for it.

"He was telling me about Dickie and how he had just joined his school's basketball team and that when the season came up again, he really wanted to join this recreational football team." She gave a small smile as she mentioned each child.

"Did he mention Kathleen?" he asked, getting closer to her, noticing that she was about to burn a hole through the ground, she was staring at it so long.

"Yeah. He went on about how she loved the performing arts. She was taking about six different dancing classes, voice lessons, piano lessons. She couldn't get enough of the music. I remember him complaining about how much jazz and ballet shoes had cost," she said, letting her eyes meet George's. "But he said that she had…_has_ real plans for college. She wants to go to Notre Dame and get her doctorate in genetics and molecular biology," she said, letting a tear slip down her face.

George was surprised how many details she had remembered about each kid, but he knew she remembered them for a reason. She loved Elliot's family like her own.

"Now I don't know if that's going to happen," she whispered, getting up once again and pacing.

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, George. You know just as well as I do that people who've been hurt to this magnitude may never live again. They think all their goals are out of reach and that there are better people out there who could do the job, so they don't even try," she said, disappointed.

George left the comment alone and moved on. "Did you guys talk about anything else?"

"No, not really. We bullshitted about a couple old cases, but nothing major. Well, except…" she said cutting herself off.

"Except what?"

"Nothing. It was nothing," she quickly tried to amend.

"Liv, you know everything in here is privileged," he said, as if it answered all her questions, or gave a legitimate response to all her excuses.

"We…uh…we talked about his marriage," she said softly, not wanting to relive it.

"What about his marriage?" he asked.

"The fact that it was on the rocks; that things were really starting to crumble. He and Kathy were really slipping into something they didn't know if they could get out of."

"Maybe divorce?"

"Yeah, that was mentioned," she said, being vague on details because she didn't want to go any further.

"Do you guys go this in-depth when it comes to your life?"

Olivia turned around and looked at him. "George, are you serious? I don't have much of a life when compared to Elliot's. We can sum mine up when he pops a cracker in his mouth. His life takes an entire lunch."

"Answer the question, Liv," he said, once again.

She turned back to the numerous books on the shelves and began to pretend she was reading the titles, looking interested. "We…um…we talk about it. I mean, we talked about the last loser that lasted about two dates."

"How are you guys now?"

"Well, we were okay, until that question. You know that one where he asks what I do. He told me at the door it just wasn't going to work out."

"Dating anyone now?"

"Nope. Don't intend to for awhile."

"Does this have anything to do with Elliot's marriage problems?" he asked as he moved back to his desk.

"A little. Well, I mean, I always thought of Elliot's life as perfect. He has this great wife with wonderful children and he still manages to hold it together for the job. If someone as great as him can't keep his love life straight, how can you expect someone like me to keep a relationship going and solid?

"But when I went to his house to ask them some questions," she continued, turning back to the books, "he and Kathy looked so close. Like nothing could tear them apart; that, at that point, nothing mattered except Kathleen. That if they could get through that, marriage issues were a piece of cake. Another part of me knows that relationships don't work for me. I'm married to the job, I guess. I like what I do, and I'm not going to give that up for any man. That's good enough for me."

They both terminated the conversation by not going any further. Olivia was glad; she hated talking about her own personal life. "How did you feel when you found out Kathleen was missing?" George asked, trying to get down to business.

"How do you think I felt? I had just found out that my partner's daughter had been kidnapped and we had twenty-four hours to find her. I was a little distraught, shocked, but let's go with numb," she said, annoyed.

"How did you feel when you found her?"

Olivia remembered the conversation she had with Casey that night of Kathleen's homecoming. She didn't want to go there again. She couldn't cry. She kept her answer to a minimum. "Better, I guess."

"Better how?"

"Better because I knew she was home safe. That trying to help her heal through this trauma was going to be hard, but it was easier than watching Elliot and his family plan for a funeral…seeing him bury his daughter," she stated in a monotone voice, eyes still fixated on the various titles.

"So, basically, you were happy for Elliot."

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. I knew what it would do to him. I didn't want to see him go through that and I was glad that he didn't have to."

George nodded. He looked over at Olivia, knowing she was trying to hide her expressions in the psychiatry books. "Time's up, Liv," he said, getting up and leaning on the front of the desk.

"George, I think your watch is broken. We've only been here for like twenty minutes. Aren't I here for another twenty-five?"

"My watch isn't broken, Olivia. But you look tired. Spend the extra twenty-five getting some sleep. Plus, you said every minute you spend here is one less on Kathleen's case. Consider this a contribution to the cause."

Olivia walked up to the couch, grabbing her jacket, and turned back to George. "Thanks, George."

"Take care of yourself, Liv. And when you see Elliot, give him my best."

"Will do. Thanks, George."

Olivia walked out of the office and out of the building. She opened her car door when her cell rang.

"Benson," she answered.

"It's Elliot."

"Hey, El. How's Kathleen?" she asked, showing true concern for his daughter.

"Better now that's she's home. She really missed this place," he answered, waiting for the right time to ask her the question he had called her for.

"I can imagine," she replied, but she knew there was more to this phone call and she had a good feeling what he wanted to know. "Listen, Elliot, I'm sorry we didn't get to talk at the station. But, when Kathleen went to the bathroom, she really wanted to go home and just couldn't keep her there," she said sympathetically.

"That's why I called. I was wondering if you could come over tonight for dinner. Kathy and I really want to talk to you and I know Kathleen will be happy to see you."

Olivia paused as she got in the car. She didn't know if she was ready for the conversation she knew Elliot was dying to have. The one that meant she was going to have to give every possible detail about Kathleen's statement and hold back some of the things he wanted to know so desperately. But she had to have it sometime. "Yeah, Elliot, that's great."

"Come hungry. Kathy's making some lasagna…Kathleen's favorite."

"That's sounds good. I haven't had a good meal in three days."

"How'd your session with Huang go?"

"How did you know I had one?"

"Well, I called Cragen and he said that you had about twenty or so minutes left. I was going to leave a message."

"It was okay. As good as it can get, I guess. Huang sends his best. On the up side, he let me out early for sleep," she said, starting up the car.

"Use it, Liv. I don't want you to have bags under our eyes."

"Thanks, El," she said, laughing.

"Listen, go home, get some sleep. I'll see you here around six, that okay?"

"That's great. I've got the rest of the day off anyway. See ya then."

"Bye, Olivia…and thanks for everything," he said softly.

"You don't have to thank me. Just take care of her. She needs you now more than ever. She may not admit it, but it was obvious when she begged for you," she said, her voice going from normal to gentle, caring, considerate, and firm, all at the same time.

"I'll be there. No question. See ya, Liv."

"See ya, El."

**Stabler Residence  
-****5:58pm-**

Olivia parked her car and set her eyes upon the two-story house. Just a couple days ago, it looked so haunted, but now it looked and felt somewhat normal. Kathleen's unseen presence automatically added the missing piece, the missing link.

Olivia got out of her car. She had actually looked forward to coming tonight. She knew the conversation later wasn't going to be cheery, but she could handle it, and she really wanted to check up on Kathleen. Plus, lasagna sounded really good. God, anything sounded good at that point.

She began to walk up the driveway when she stopped. She heard a sound coming from inside. It wasn't a bad sound, it was like a piano. The melodies were soft and seemed to flow right into one another. She just didn't know if someone was actually playing a piano, or if she was beginning to hear things. She continued to walk closer and the music became louder and more distinct. Voices of bantering children could be heard – she knew they were Liz's and Dickie's and the smell of the food permeated throughout the house and then outside. Olivia could smell it and her she was instantly hungry.

She rang the doorbell and she could feel the vibes of family. It felt like a true home. Elliot answered the door and greeted her with a hug.

"Hey, Liv. Thanks for coming," he answered as he took the dessert she had bought. "You didn't have to bring anything."

"Well, I do a lot of things I don't have to. I'm such a rebel. But be careful. It is contagious," she joked.

"Now you've got me scared," he said, as he led her into the living room.

She passed the threshold and there it was – the most beautiful sight she had seen. Liz and Dickie were finally calm and sitting on the floor, playing a card game. Maureen was nestled in a blanket in a chair, reading what looked like a textbook. Kathy was reclining on the couch with coffee in one hand and her leg was across the next cushion, indicating where Elliot had been sitting. She soaked in the fact that this is what a real family should be like. This is what families should model after.

But, the most breathtaking thing she saw was Kathleen. As simple as she was dressed, only in jeans and some dance competition t-shirt, she was gorgeous. She sat at the piano, playing the keys like they were extensions of her fingers, like they part of her. She sat like someone's hand was placed there to keep her posture. She read the notes on the sheet like she was reading a book that was three levels too low for her. She played like her life was in the piano, like all her feelings and emotions were being transferred into the keys everytime she touched one. Olivia didn't recognize the tune, but, God, was it beautiful.

After the shock, Elliot gently guided her to the chair next to Maureen. The young woman gave a warm smile and then went back to her book. She sat and Elliot went back to his seat next to Kathy. Kathy looked over and also gave a smile. Olivia knew it was one that was a mix of hospitality and pride. It was one of those smiles that, if she was sitting next to Olivia, meant that she would've nudged her and said, "That's my daughter up there."

Olivia smiled in return and focused her attention on Kathleen as well. She didn't seem nervous that everyone was watching and listening. She actually seemed oblivious to the fact that her entire family was there. She seemed more interested in the notes and the way they danced on the page and bounced off the piano as she played them, and then filled every available place of the house.

As the piece ended, the resounding sound crescendoed lightly and then was played to an almost unperceivable note. Kathleen lifted her finger gently as she played the last note and lifted her foot gingerly off the step. It was silent for a split second until everyone gave applause. Kathleen shuffled the sheets of music together and then turned. Olivia saw her smile the widest she had ever seen. She gave a quiet thank you and then Liz made her take her place in the game. She was losing and now she needed Kathleen to pull her out of the hole. As Kathleen took her seat, she noticed Olivia.

"Hey, Olivia. Come hungry?" she asked, as she placed a card down. She seemed better than she had that morning.

"Well, your dad told me to, and of course, I _always_ listen to him," she said with a wink.

"Just be lucky that he doesn't have the power to ground you," she responded with a smile.

It seemed surprising to Olivia how personable she was being. It wasn't too normal for someone who had been hurt like Kathleen had to be like that. But then the twins came into mind. Of course Maureen knew of the damages that could've been done, but did the twins? Did they truly understand? Was Kathleen putting on an act so they didn't suspect anything?

"You'd be surprised how much power your father _thinks_ he has over me. I just let him think all he wants."

Kathleen laughed. "And you'd be surprised to know how much you guys _think_ you can get away with," Elliot responded, trying to defend himself.

"Well, I see that and raise you. For twenty years I've been letting him think he has the last word," said Kathy, smiling.

Olivia and Kathleen laughed. "You win," they answered in unison.

"I tell ya, a bunch of comediennes I'm living with. At least Maureen appreciates me, don't you Maureen?" he asked across the room.

Maureen, caught in her book, gave a mediocre answer. "Yeah, Dad, fine."

"Liz, what do ya say? Still love me for all I do?"

"Sure, Dad. Whatever you say."

Elliot shrugged and laughing erupted again. "You know, I'm going to check that lasagna," Elliot said as he got up and started toward the kitchen.

"No, you won't," Kathy responded chasing after him. "No one here wants that screwed up."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Olivia asked.

"No, I just gotta take it out. You're the guest, Olivia. Sit back and relax."

Elliot got pushed out of the kitchen and he sat back down. "Guys, you finished with all your homework?" he asked the twins.

They exchanged a worried glance. "Well, see…" "We were gonna…" they began at once until Dickie took over. "Well, see, Dad, this is how it went."

"Okay, I'm listening," he responded, pretending to buy into their excuse.

"We were gonna go and do all that math homework Mrs. Bascom assigned, but…"

"But what?"

"Well, we got into our room and then we decided to go clean up the living room. See, we didn't want Olivia to have to sit in a dusty chair, now would we?" he continued.

"Oh, well, no we wouldn't. You guys are so on top of things," he responded, smiling at Olivia.

"And, well, when Mom saw us dusting, she asked us to set the table, and dust the piano, and walk the dog."

"Oh," he said, nodding his head. "You guys are so good." Dickie and Liz shared a smile of triumph. "You guys are such good liars. I mean, you almost had me going. Until the dog thing. See, that would only work if we had a dog." Liz and Dickie shared another glance. "Now, your mom said it was going to be another few minutes. Why don't you go up and start on it?"

Grunts and groans were heard as they headed up the stairs. "Dog, Dickie? Dog? You had to go with a dog?" Liz asked insultingly.

"It was the only think I could think of," he retorted.

"Yeah, well, next time, I'm doing the talking," mumbled Liz as they reached the top. Kathleen and Olivia shared another laugh.

"I'm going to go make sure they follow through," Elliot said, dismissing himself. He disappeared upstairs.

"Wanna play?" asked Kathleen, motioning toward Olivia. She agreed and took her place on the ground.

After a few moments of silent play, Kathleen spoke. "Olivia, I know why my parents invited you here tonight. I know that they want to know about my statement and what happened to me," she said casually, not worried about Maureen's presence.

Olivia placed a card down and looked back up at Kathleen. "You're right, they did."

"Are you gonna tell them everything that happened?"

"I'm only going to tell them what you want me to. I speak for _you_, Kathleen. I follow the rules you give me when it comes to this sort of thing. You can give me guidelines if you want; what I can disclose, what I can't."

Kathleen placed a card down and shared another glance with Olivia. "I really don't know where to draw the line. I mean, I wanna tell them everything, but nothing at the same time."

"Well, can I tell them that you were raped?" she asked softly.

Kathleen gave a small nod, keeping her eyes on the cards in her hands. "Do you have to tell them how many times they did it?"

"Not if you don't want me to."

"I don't want you to," Kathleen said, tucking her legs underneath her.

"Then I won't," Olivia said, taking her turn. "Can I tell them about the rape kit?"

"What kinda things about the rape kit?"

"Like, the tests you took. The fact that you took a morning after pill. Maybe some of the evidence we got."

"Okay. I don't mind," Kathleen responded, also taking her turn. "Just don't tell 'em about the shower they made me take with them, okay? I went to go t…take one earlier and I…I couldn't do it alone. Maureen helped me and I just couldn't tell them." Kathleen looked at Olivia and Olivia knew how hard it was for her to admit that.

"I won't say a word about it," she promised.

"What if Dad asks about something that I don't want him to know?"

"I'll tell him that he'll have to wait on you for that. That it's just going to take some time."

"What if he gets mad?"

"Then, he'll get mad. I've seen him mad before, Kathleen, and it's not threatening enough for me to break your confidence. You can trust me with anything. If you tell me you don't want him to know, he sure as hell won't hear it from me."

Kathleen nodded her head. "Kat," she said softly.

"Hmm?" asked Olivia, confused.

"You keep calling me Kathleen. Call me Kat. Everybody does," she said, putting a card down and smiling at Olivia.

"Kat it is," she said with a smile. Kathleen finally let her in and she be damned if she ever let herself get kicked out.

"Dinner's ready," said Kathy, coming in. "Where's your Dad, guys?"

"Upstairs with the twins, doing math homework," answered Kathleen.

"Great," she answered sarcastically. "Kat, would you go get 'em so we can eat?"

Kathleen nodded. "I haven't been paying attention, but I think you won," she said, getting up.

"Let's call it a tie," Olivia replied, also getting up, "because I haven't been paying attention, either."

"Then we'll have to go into overtime after dinner. We can't leave it at a tie," she said smiling as she went upstairs.

Dinner was served and the conversation lively, especially with the twins discussing their days at school and Maureen mentioning the courses she was taking. Kathleen remained quiet, speaking only when she was asked a question and Olivia knew that when others were talking, Kathleen was thinking. About her ordeal. About her life before it happened. About her life now that it had happened. Nobody pushed her into talking, but were kind and accepted the small answers she gave them, understanding the resistance.

After dinner, the twins did the dishes, and headed to bed while Maureen went back to the dorms. Kathleen said she was going to go take a shower and then head to bed, while giving everyone a 'goodnight'. Everyone knew she had already taken a shower, Olivia being the only one knowing that she needed Maureen's help, but they didn't question, and understood. They exchanged goodnights with her and they went back into the living room to talk.

"Liv, this isn't going to be easy," said Elliot as they all took a different seat. The faucets from the shower turning on could be heard.

"I don't think anyone expects it to be, Elliot. But, please understand that there are things I can't disclose. For investigation purposes," she staring down at the floor, hating to say that to them, especially Elliot.

Olivia looked up to see Kathy nodding her head. Kathy didn't like the response, but accepted it. Elliot looked frustrated, but nodded.

"What _can _you tell us?" Kathy pleaded.

"She was raped," she said, swallowing the huge lump in her throat. She didn't want to say that; she honestly had never thought she would have to, but she took a deep breath and looked back up at her partner.

Elliot clenched his fists, trying to flex out the pain and anger. "You said you did a rape kit earlier. What did that come up with?" he said, knowing exactly what to ask.

"Well, we get in luck here. He left fluids and we do have DNA. As far as tests go, she took some STD scans and, as a precaution, she took the morning after pill."

"When did he rape her?" Kathy asked.

"Why does that matter?" asked Olivia gently, mostly because she didn't know how to answer. Kathleen asked her not to tell them how many times they had raped her, so she could respond with many different times.

"You said she took a morning after pill. They're not always a hundred percent effective and they're best when taken 24 hours after intercourse, although they are effective for up to 72 hours. She was missing for a little more than that. It could've been useless for her to have taken one. She still could be pregnant."

Olivia gazed at Kathy and immediately her heart sank. Not only had Kathleen been through hell, but it was possible she was pregnant. True, it was most likely she wasn't, but it was up to chance. Then again, Olivia thought, if it was up to chance that she wasn't pregnant, it was also up to chances that she was.

"She…she was," Olivia began, swallowing the lump of emotions back down her throat, "raped when he threw her into the car he kidnapped her in. As soon as he abducted her," she said, sounding so defeated. God, she hated this.

"So, wait a minute. My daughter could be pregnant because of this bastard!" yelled Elliot, as he stood up and began to pace.

"Calm down, Elliot," Kathy persuaded, as she stood up and stepped into his line of walking. She stopped him and gently rubbed his arm. "We'll get Kathleen to take a test. We'll deal with whatever happens."

Elliot gave a nod. "What about her STD tests? How'd they go?"

Olivia looked up. "We won't know until the test results come back. Don't worry, I put a rush on 'em. Just remember, if they come up negative, you still have to get her tested at the three and six month mark."

"We won't."

"Elliot, do remember Julio Sanchez?"

Elliot looked surprised in return. "Yeah, I do. That was the guy Munch and Fin tried to pin that rape on about two months ago."

"Did _you_ ever had contact with him? Maybe interrogate him?"

Elliot thought and Kathy's eyes seemed to wander to the bathroom door upstairs, evidently focusing on Kathleen, worrying about her. "Yeah, I did. You were due in court and they asked for my assistance."

"Get overzealous with him?"

Elliot looked like someone punched him in the stomach and flopped back on the couch. "Is he the one who did this to her?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yeah. It was his house and the description Kathleen gave us fits him perfectly."

Elliot rested his face in his palms and when he finally got the courage to lift his face, Olivia could see the tears starting to form and his eyes become red. "I…I got physical with him. He said I'd regret it…" he trailed as he got up and looked wistfully outside the window. "If I had just…If I had just backed away. This…this wouldn't have happened. Damn it!" he ended with a yell, as he angrily flipped around.

"Elliot, this isn't your fault. You couldn't have done anything differently."

"I could've kept my emotions in check," he retorted back. Olivia wanted to persuade him more, but Kathy spoke up.

"Kathleen's been up there for awhile," she commented. "Do you think something's wrong?"

"She's only been in there for about fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. She's taken longer showers," Elliot said.

"I know," Kathy said, again looking thoughtfully at the bathroom door. "Just something doesn't seem right. I'm going to go check on her."

Olivia wanted to stop her – for Kathleen's sake. So Kathleen wouldn't have to endure anything else. But the other part of her wanted to let her go, so Kathleen could learn early that her parents would be there. Elliot watched Kathy knock on the door and ask if everything was okay. Everything remained silent and no response was heard. Kathy asked again. Again, nothing. Kathy's hand touched the cold, gold doorknob and she turned it lightly. She walked into the bathroom and found that it was covered in thick steam from the hot shower that was running. Her eyes then focused on something that broke her heart.

Kathleen was sitting on the edge of the bathtub in her white terry robe, her hair damp from the vapors and falling on the sides of her face, and her eyes filled with tears. The shower was running behind her and more steam filled the air with every drop that came out.

Kathy came to her side, reached behind her and shut off the shower. She lifted Kathleen's face and searched her eyes.

"I'm so…so…sorry, Mom," she said, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to be sorry for anything. Come here," she said, taking her into a hug. Kathleen held on tight and her face was filled with pain.

Elliot saw the entire exchange. He hurried up the stairs, taking two at a time, saying, "Liv, wait right there." He walked to the door and looked upon his daughter.

"It wasn't y…your fault, D…Daddy. It's not your fault," she said more tears running down her face.

Elliot, surprised she heard anything, bent down next to Kathy and took his daughter into a hug.

"He made me…he made…he made me take a shower with him, Daddy."

"Sweetie, come on, let's get you to bed," said Elliot, gently rubbing her back.

"No," she sobbed. "I have to do this! I can still feel him on me. I need him off of me. I need him off…" she sobbed, falling into Elliot arms.

He and Kathy stroked her back, gently cooing her. "I'll help you, sweetheart. Come on, I'll help you," said Kathy, as Elliot let her go. "Elliot, go down back to Olivia. Fill me in later," she said, getting towels. He gave one wistful look at his daughter and then obeyed, closing the door behind him.

He walked down the stairs, shocked to say anything. He reached the bottom and sat down on the chair. It hit him. It hit him right upside the head. This was real. His daughter was really a victim. His daughter had been hurt. His family had touched the world he tried so hard to hide them from. It wasn't a dream. It had happened. He was living in a nightmare.

Olivia sat, letting the silence overcome them; letting Elliot soak in everything that had happened.

"What do I do, Liv?"

"What do ya mean?"

"I mean, what do I do? How do I deal with something like this? How do I make this better? What do I say to her?" he said.

Olivia got up and sat next to him. "You just have to be there. That, right there," she said, pointing to the bathroom door, "that's how you deal with it. This was the first test, Elliot, and you passed with flying colors. You responded with quick reflexes, and instead of sitting and trying to talk her out of her guilt, you just scooped her up, hugged her. That's what she's going to need right now. She's just going to need someone to hold on to; for someone to hold onto her."

Total silence overcame them, and fifteen minutes later, Kathy and Kathleen could be heard coming out of the bathroom. Elliot glanced at them, going into Kathleen's room and then gazed at Olivia, eyes filled to the rim with tears, but letting not one fall. "He…he made her take a shower with him," he said, letting the quiet confession answer all the questions.

Olivia bowed her head, looking down at the Stablers' carpet. "Yeah…" she let out in an almost inaudible whisper. "I know."

"What?" he asked. Olivia knew the newly stirred anger from the entire situation was going to boil over at her soon enough because of her resistance to tell everything about Kathleen's statement.

"She…uh…she told me," she said, still bowing her head, unable to face him.

"So, wait a minute. She told you?" he asked, anger still stirring.

"Yeah. She put it in her statement," she reluctantly.

"See, Olivia, _this_ is the kind of things that I want to know! This is the stuff that you've gotta tell me!" he yelled, getting up from the chair, and turning accusingly at her.

Olivia, tired of being yelled at, retorted with, "And _this_ is the kind of stuff that Kathleen doesn't want me to tell you! Look, Elliot, I know you wanna kill this bastard. God knows we all want a piece of him. But, I speak for Kathleen. I _don't _answer to you! And, sometimes, you can't get all the answers! As much as you want them, you can't!"

"I don't care, Olivia! I'm tired of being told I can't know what's happened to my daughter, because it's part of the investigation! I'm tired of being left out of the loop!"

"And I don't like keeping you out of it! Don't you understand that? Don't you get it? It's not easy for me!"

"Nothing's easy, Liv!" he yelled, mostly because he didn't know what else to say.

"You know, Elliot, I'm sorry it's gotten to this point, but do _not_ even begin to blame me. You're just mad because you want to know every detail and you can't! You're mad because there's no double standard! You think because you're my partner, I can break a promise I made to a victim. I'm sorry I can't tell you, but I will not break Kathleen's confidence! I will not break a promise I made to her because you feel left out! I will not sacrifice her trust so you can feel included!"

-

"Mom, how come Dad thinks this is his fault?" asked Kathleen, getting into bed as Kathy wrapped the blanket around her.

"Sweetie, I think that's a question for your father," she responded, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"It's not his fault."

"I know that, you know that, Olivia knows that, but you father's going to need some convincing."

"How come you're not down there? Don't you want to know what happened?" Kathleen asked, looking away.

Kathy looked at Kathleen, reached her hand out, and took Kathleen's chin in her hand, gently turning her daughter toward her. "Because, I don't know if you want me to. I don't know if you feel comfortable enough having me listen to Olivia tell me everything. If you'd be mad that I knew something that you didn't want me to because I decided to let Olivia tell me." Kathy gently put her hand down, but kept the stare. "Because, as much as I want to know what happened, I wanna hear it from you. Olivia's a nice woman, but I want to hear what happened to you, _from _you," she ended sincerely.

Kathleen began to cry again. "Mom, I just don't know if I'm ready to tell you. I don't know if I can right now," she admitted.

"And I'm okay with that. You tell me when you feel you're ready. I'll be there, ready to listen." Silence overcame them. "How about you get some sleep, kiddo. It's pretty late."

Kathleen's fingers began to tremble. "Mom? Would you stay with me…until I fall asleep?" she asked shyly.

"Absolutely," answered Kathy as she went over to the other side of the bed, but yelling could be heard.

"…not sacrifice her trust so you can feel included!"

Kathleen looked at her mom, and Kathy made her way down the stairs, Kathleen looking on from her half-opened door.

-

Unnoticed the entire time, Kathy stood at the bottom of the stairs.

"I think it's time you go now, Olivia," Elliot said, trying to stare her down.

"Elliot, calm down," his wife reminded him again. "You don't have to go, Olivia. Really."

Olivia looked at Kathy, then at Kathleen, upstairs, and then back at Elliot. "Thanks, Kathy, but I think Elliot's right. Maybe it is time for me to go."

Olivia glided over to the door and walked out. Kathy gave Elliot a disappointed look, and footsteps coming down the stairs could be heard. Kathleen came rushing down.

"I can't believe you, Dad! Don't blame her! Blame me! _I _told her not to tell you!"

Kathleen raced to the door, and ran after Olivia down the driveway. Kathy followed.

"Olivia, I'm so sorry," Kathleen managed to get out, causing Olivia to stop. She turned and looked at Kathleen compassionately. Kathleen ran into her arms, embracing her, as Kathy came beside them. Olivia held on tight.

"Don't be sorry, kiddo. Things like this happen and it's nobody's fault. Don't ever be sorry for anything like this, okay? Promise me that."

"I promise," she managed to get out and they pulled out of the hug.

Olivia made her way to the driver's seat of the car and turned to Kathleen. "I told you he wasn't threatening enough, Kat." She turned to Kathy. "Thanks for dinner, Kathy. It was great. I can see why it's Kathleen's favorite," she said, giving a weak smile, and getting into the car. Before she could start it, Kathy came up to the window.

"I really am sorry, Olivia."

"Don't be sorry. This isn't the first, and certainly won't be the last, time we've gotten into a yelling match."

"I know. But, still, I'm sorry."

Olivia looked up at Kathy. "No, Kathy, I'm sorry. I knew he was close to the edge. I shouldn't have pushed him. He was so fragile and I broke him."

"No, you kept Kathleen's confidence. That means more to me than anything."

"But, I broke him. God, I broke him," she whispered repeatedly.

"And I'll piece him back together. I always do."

"You're a great woman, Kathy. I don't know how you do it."

"Honestly…neither do I." Kathy paused. "Go home and get some sleep. Don't worry about Elliot. Like I said, he always gets glued back together…no matter how many times he gets broken."

"Goodnight, Kathy."

"Goodnight, Olivia."

Olivia drove off and Kathy and Kathleen went back into the house. Kathleen came face-to-face with her father. "Dad, if you don't call her and apologize within the next 24 hours, I may lose all respect for you," she said, looking up at him, never blinking. She didn't wait for a response. "Goodnight." She ran up the stairs, keeping the door open for her mother.

Elliot turned to Kathy. "You'll get the bed tonight. I'm bunking in Kathleen's room," Kathy said matter-of-factly, starting up the stairs.

"Kathy…I," he tried to amend.

"If you're thinking about apologizing, don't waste your time on me. I wasn't the one who got yelled at like a little child by my partner, in front of his wife and daughter."

"Kathy, I don't know what to say," he said, feeling like a complete ass.

"Elliot, it's done, it's over with, let's move past it. You can't change what happened, you can only make it better. To do that, you say you're sorry," Kathy said, turning around on the stair she was on. "Goodnight, Elliot."

"Goodnight," was all he could say.

"Elliot," she started again, knowing he was going to try to call her. "She's probably not going to answer her cell and I honestly don't think this is the time to do anything. You both need sleep."

Elliot looked up at her. "You're always a voice of reason, Kathy. I don't know where'd I'd be without you."

"You'd find your way, Elliot. You have people who'd be willing to guide you. But, the one who would take your hand in an instant just got yelled at because she kept Kathleen's confidence. I think that's the point your missing. She wasn't hiding anything from you, she was keeping a promise to your daughter."

Elliot nodded. "Tell Kathleen it'll be the first call I make tomorrow," he said, trying to amend what had happened.

Kathy nodded. "I think she'd rather hear it from you." Kathy paused. "But, I'll tell her anyway."

Elliot watched Kathy go upstairs and turned off the lights in the house. He checked on the twins and went to his and Kathy's bedroom. He sat on the bed, taking in everything that had happened, and regretting everything he said. Despite Kathy's remark about Olivia not answering her cell and although he knew she was right, he tried to call her. He got the machine at home, thinking she'd check it when she got home.

"Hey, you've reached Olivia Benson. I'm not here right now. You know what to do at the beep." Beep-

"Listen, Liv, it's me. I…I don't…I'm sor…Thank you. Thank you for giving Kathleen someone she can trust. I'll try you tomorrow. Sleep well."

He flopped back on his bed, and sleep didn't come easily. To anyone that night.

-  
A/n – whew! I know I told you at the beginning of the chapter it was a long one, but I didn't expect this. But then again, you guys don't seem to mind (which I really appreciate). I hope you guys enjoyed it. I know it's going a little slow, but the pace will pick up. And, I wanted you guys to have a good one, because it'll probably be awhile before I can update. My term paper's due date is coming closer. Dun dun dun!

I wanted to thank those who left a review or who sent me emails or IMs. I've realized that I've got so much support on here and it makes me feel so good to know that you guys feel comfortable sending me suggestions and things like that. I love 'em and I do take them into consideration. They always give me food for thought. Thanks for everything! Oh, and someone sent me an email saying they would like to see Elizabeth Olivet (psychiatrist that used to work with SVU in the first and second seasons and specializes in children) treat the Stabler children. But, I know a lot of you like Huang. But, I don't want anyone to worry. You'll get the best of both worlds! Wink wink.

Oh, and I also received an IM, urging me to finish the Setting My Sights/Talking to You, Blaming You series. Don't worry, the "soccer sequel" is coming! I think I'll post it before the next chapter of this. My ideas are set out, I just gotta write it!

Thanks for everything, you guys! Until next post/chapter, adios! –Jessica


	4. Apologies and Adrenaline Rushes

Title: _Beautiful Soul  
_Chapter 4

Author: SVUFanatic611

Rating: PG-13

**A/n**: Chapter 4 up! I tried to update every 10 days, but I had a Period Table of the Elements quiz (have to know all of the elements, how to spell them, their chemical symbol, and whether or not it's a metal, nonmetal, metalloid, or noble gas, and we have to know some oxidation numbers!), my final outline of my paper was due, and I had a bunch of essays to do! Whew! That's a lot! Well, let's not procrastinate like I did for my quiz and here's chapter 4! Enjoy!

_Just a warning_ – well, I don't want to spoil it…nevermind! Just read and find out! Thanks!

Disclaimer: SVU and its associated characters are not mine. The title was based on the song 'Beautiful Soul' by Jesse McCartney. I have no claim on the song, although I must say, I listen to it often. I also have no claim on the 2004 movie, Shall We Dance? or the actors associated with it.

**SVU Squadroom  
****December 9, 2003****  
-7:****08am-**

Olivia sat on the edge of her desk, trying to focus on the conversation that she was supposed to be participating in. She hadn't slept well the night before. The conversation between her and Elliot had kept repeating itself over in her head and she couldn't get it to stop. She got Elliot's message when she had gotten home, but she honestly didn't have the energy to call him back, listen to him apologize, and reconcile everything. God knew she had the time; she just didn't have the energy. She figured she'd call him later.

But Kathleen kept running through her head. She had seen victims of pain and violence before, hell she worked with them everyday, but it really ripped out her heart to see Kathleen go through it, to know the victim, to know what kind of person she was before, to see Elliot wear the mix of expressions of pain, tiredness, worry, confusion, disbelief, and hurt on his face. God only knew how long he'd be wearing it. Logic told her he'd probably never take it off. Her heart hoped he'd take it off within time.

She tried drifting back into the conversation.

"…the only one seeing the connection between Kathleen and Megan here?" asked John.

"You must be, John, because I don't see how the two are related," replied Don. John walked over to the board that had the picture of Megan, murdered, and a picture of Kathleen that Olivia had taken during the rape kit, bruised and broken. A photo of Sanchez and Leo Harris had been taped to it, also.

"Okay, first of all, they both are students of Norman Thomas High School; Kathleen, a junior, and Megan, a sophomore."

"With someone as brilliant as you are, you had to have figured out more," replied Olivia in a sarcastic tone.

Munch gave her a wry smile. "With me, there's always more." He paused and turned back toward the board. "They both have younger sisters who attend recreational cheerleading, making it easier to stalk them both at one time if he wanted to. And last, but certainly not least, they both have cops for fathers. But not just any cops.

"They were cops that pissed him off. We knew he threatened Elliot and we talked to some of Harris' buddies. They said Leo hated Sanchez with a passion. He had shot his partner during a bust about a year ago and ever since then, Harris went after Sanchez every chance he could." Munch stared at his co-workers as he walked back to his desk.

"What exactly is the worst thing that could possibly happen to a cop with kids?" he asked to anyone in general.

"To have one of them become a victim," replied Olivia, remembering that Elliot had told her that one time.

"More specifically, a victim of the horrors that your trying to stop," Munch said, sitting. "Sanchez wanted to hurt Elliot and Leo by going through their kids. He knew the thing that would hurt them most was having their children become victims of what they were trying to prevent. Megan died of a cocaine overdose. Her father was a Narcotics officer. Kathleen was raped and sexually abused, almost murdered. Elliot works with SVU," he ended, with a small look of accomplishment on his face as he let everyone digest the information.

"Okay…" Olivia trailed. "I guess I can understand the reason why he'd go after Harris. I mean, Harris put actual energy into hating Sanchez. But why Elliot? Why Kathleen? Elliot getting temperamental with him could get him pissed, but I'm sure he's had bigger troubles with other officers. Why go after Elliot?"

Don took control of the question. "Well, you also gotta look at the crime of opportunity angle. He knew he wanted to go after Megan, but when he saw Kathleen went to the same school and had sisters in cheerleading together, he decided that he'd make it easier on himself."

Olivia accepted the information, and nodded as someone came in to deliver a note to Cragen. He read it and said, "Well, here's your first lead. Witness saw the news and the picture we put out of Sanchez and thinks she spotted him. Go check it out," he said, handing over the address and then heading to his office.

"So, how's Kathleen?" asked Munch as they got their coats.

"She's hanging in there. I can tell that she wants to break down and cry…" she trailed as she met Munch's glance, "but she's tryin' the best she can to be strong."

"She'll get through this," he said simply. "Something tells me she'll be okay."

Olivia nodded and grabbed the keys. "Let's hope," she said as the memories of the night before tortured her mind and soul once again.

**Stabler Residence  
-7:****11am-**

"Daddy, are we gonna drop Kat off or are you gonna take me and Dickie to school first?" asked Liz as she ate her breakfast at the table with her brother. Kathy and Kathleen hadn't come down yet.

Elliot looked up from the paper he was reading. "Actually, kiddo, Kat's not going to school today."

"Why not? That's not fair," Dickie complained, unaware of the ordeal his sister had been put through. Elliot realized that he had to inform his two youngest of what he could, without scaring them half to death.

"Listen, we gotta talk," Elliot began, putting down the paper.

"Dad, we already had the birds and the bees talk," Liz said, jokingly.

Elliot gave a small smile to please his daughter, but then got serious. "Actually, it's about something important and you both have to listen."

The twins looked up at him and he continued. "It's about what happened to your sister," he said. They knew she was kidnapped, but they thought that was the extent.

"Dad, she's safe, right? I mean, he's not going to take her again, is he?" asked Liz worriedly. Elliot reached out and grabbed her hand.

"No, kiddo, he's not. But there's something both of you should know." They looked intensely at him again and he kept their attention. "We told you Kat was kidnapped and she was, b…but, guys, he hurt her more than that," he said, trying to be strong. How could he admit to them what happened when he barely knew, when he didn't want to face reality?

"Whad'ya mean, Dad?" asked Dickie.

He looked at his son and saw the look of concern he had for his sister and was touched. "He hurt her pretty bad, guys. And she just needs time to clear her head and get back to what was, that's all. She's going to need all the love and encouragement we can offer her. So, just keep things amiable around here. Avoid any stupid arguments. And, Liz, no 'borrowing' her stuff, okay?"

They gave a weak nod, as Kathy rounded the corner into the kitchen. "Good morning," she greeted.

"Morning," they all replied.

"Guys, go get your stuff. We gotta go," Elliot said, as they started upstairs. Elliot got up and followed Kathy into the kitchen as she got a cup of coffee. "So, how'd Kathleen sleep?" he asked as he leaned his hip against the counter and Kathy stood in front of the coffeepot.

She looked up at him and sipped her coffee. "She tried, but she woke up about every forty-five minutes with a nightmare," she said, disappointedly.

Elliot gave a reluctant nod. The silence between them rang louder than ever and the growing tension that had existed for about a month just seemed to grow thicker. "How'd you sleep?" Elliot asked, breaking the awful silence.

"I got enough to last me through the day," she said vaguely, moving from the counter to the table and sitting.

Elliot nodded once again and then took a seat at the table next to her as silence overcame them again. His mind began to drift. What was with this sudden overwhelming silence that existed everytime they were alone together? Why couldn't they talk? Why couldn't they at least have a small, pleasant conversation, even if it was about their budget, or stupid, unimportant trifles? Was it because of the tension that had happened the night before? Was it because of the ordeal with Kathleen?

Or was it something bigger? Was it because they had grown apart?

But, he couldn't think of that right now. He had to let time deal with their marriage issues. Right now, he had to face reality. And that entailed his sixteen-year-old daughter being raped and beaten. He didn't know if he could.

"Did you call Olivia?" she asked, as she picked up the paper from where Elliot had put it down.

"Yeah, last night. I left a message," he said, looking down.

Kathy nodded and continued to read the article. "You taking Liz and Dickie to school?"

"I planned to," he said, as he decided to get coffee.

"How about I take them? Kathleen wants to talk to you."

Elliot stared at his wife and realized that she wasn't reading. She just kept her eyes glued to the paper to avoid looking him in the eye. What was with this? First Olivia, then Kathleen, and now Kathy. What was so haunting about his eyes that detracted everyone from them?

"Kathy, what's on your mind?" he asked cautiously, as he placed his hand over hers.

Kathy looked up at him, tears burning her eyes. "This is so real, Elliot. She really is hurt. I mean, this isn't just a bad dream," she said, so conflicted, trying to figure why this had happened. Tears began to swell.

Elliot looked upon her and took her into a hug. "Come here," he whispered as Kathy held on.

"I don't know if I can do this, Elliot. I don't know if we can survive this," she said into the crook of his neck.

"You'll get through it. We all will. We just need time," he said, soaking in the smell of her freshly shampooed hair. They pulled out of the hug and he wiped the tears from her face. "We can do this. I know we can."

The tender moment died a few minutes later and they went back to their morning. "El, what do you think about putting Kathleen in another school? Maybe giving her a fresh start after Christmas vacation is up?" she asked, trying to all options open.

Elliot took a deep breath. "I don't know, Kath. I mean, she's been at that school since day one. Do you think it might be more traumatic to have to start over? To have to get used to the classes, make new friends, know a completely different campus?"

Kathy nodded. "I guess you're right. I just don't know what to do to make her feel better."

"Honestly, Kathy, neither do I. Maybe we need to ask Kathleen," he sighed in defeat. He really didn't know how to handle any of this.

Kathy paused, keeping her eyes glued to the coffee table. "I talked to Kathleen last night," she started softly, "about the STD tests…and the pregnancy."

Elliot stopped his actions at the counter and turned slowly toward her. "Well…how'd she take it?"

"How do you think she took it, El? She scared as hell. She cried herself to sleep when I told her."

"Did you tell her she'd have to take a test for the pregnancy?"

"Yeah," she said nodding.

"And what'd she say to that?" Elliot asked, letting his words clip at the ends of Kathy's.

"She's scared, Elliot. She doesn't want to take one, and, well…I hate to admit it, but I'm not going to make her."

"She needs to as soon as possible. The sooner she does, the sooner we can start exploring our…her options."

"Elliot, we can't push her into anything right now. Especially something like this."

"Good morning," said a small voice standing in the threshold of the kitchen. They turned to see Kathleen leaning against the wall.

"Morning, baby," said Elliot, trying to brush the emotion of the conversation off his shoulders.

"Good morning, kiddo," said Kathy.

Kathleen nodded, gave a small smile, and sat down across from her mom. "Honey, do you want any breakfast?" asked Elliot.

Kathleen looked up at him. "I'm not really hungry," she said, her voice still soft.

"You really should eat something, kiddo," said Kathy, covering her hand over her daughter's.

Kathleen gave a nod. "What do you want? I can fix up anything," said Elliot from the kitchen.

"Whatever's already made is fine."

At that point, the twins came down the stairs and walked into the kitchen.

"Morning, Kat," they said in unison.

"Morning," she said softly and Elliot saw the look of concern on Liz's face. She absolutely adored her sister and she hated to see her like that. Elliot knew that and it pulled at his already tattered heart.

"Come on, Dad, we're gonna be late," said Dickie. "We have math first period and Mrs. Bascom hates it when we're late."

"I'm gonna take you, kids. Go get in the car. I just gotta find the keys and I'll be out there in a minute," said Kathy, getting up. Dickie did as he was told, but Liz hung back. She approached Kathleen.

"I have my math test this morning. Wish me luck?" she said gently and cautiously.

Kathleen looked up and offered a smile. "You don't need luck. You know how to do any problem she can throw at you. But if makes you feel any better…luck," she said, keeping her smile.

Liz nodded. "I love you, Kathleen," she said as she threw her arms around Kathleen.

Kathleen seemed a little surprised, but put her arms around her sister's shoulders. "I love you, too, Liz. Come on, go get in the car. Don't wanna start that test stressed out because you came late." Liz obeyed and disappeared out the door.

"I'll be back soon," said Kathy as she came in and the swept out the door.

Elliot looked at his daughter, who turned and met his stare. "Did you call Olivia?" she asked in a monotone voice.

"Yeah. She didn't pick up and hasn't returned my call, but I'm going to try her again around lunch."

"Well, if I was her, I probably wouldn't return your call, either," she said with some hostility.

"Kathleen…" he started.

"Forget it, Dad," she said, looking down again.

"No, Kathleen, I can't forget it. Look, if I could take back what happened and what I said, I would."

"I know you would, Dad, but you said them in the first place and that hurts enough. And you gotta realize that she was keeping a promise that she made to me."

"I realize that, baby. I really do. It's just…" he started, moving from the kitchen and then sitting across from his daughter. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have gone off on Olivia like that. I was just so mad from the past few days about this situation and it just came to a head. I'm so sorry, kiddo."

"You shouldn't apologize to me."

"Yes, I should. You're not the only I have to say that to, but you're one of them. I made you feel uncomfortable and I'm sorry."

Kathleen looked up as she wrapped her arms around herself, a motion that she had accustomed to in the previous days. "Daddy, I want to tell you everything that happened. I really do. But, I just…I'm not ready. I can't right now," she said softly. "I will…it's just going to take some time, I guess."

"Then I'm willing to wait. Just promise that you'll know I'm here, ready to listen at any time?"

"I promise." She paused and looked back at her father. "I think I've regained my appetite. Think that breakfast is going to be much longer?"

Elliot smiled. "Well, a hug may speed me up just a little." Kathleen got up and gave her father a hug, savoring it, and pulling away with a smile.

"So, kiddo, when your mom comes back, she's got a shift to get to and then we got the house to ourselves. Anything you wanna do?"

"I really don't wanna go anywhere. Can we do something here? Maybe order lunch or something? Maybe watch a movie?"

"Sure, kiddo. I think we can do that. I finally got that movie Liz was begging for. The dancing one with that woman."

Kathleen gave a laugh. "That's specific."

"Well, you know. The one with the woman who has like red hair and then the husband with the gray hair and he goes to dancing lessons," he said, confused, trying to redeem himself from his evident lack of attention.

"Are you talking about Susan Sarandon and Richard Gere? In 'Shall We Dance?'" she said with a smirk.

"Exactly. I was testing you," he said with a smile and putting her breakfast in front of her.

"I like that movie. Can we watch that?"

"Sure, kiddo. You just tell me what you want to do…and we'll do it," he said, not talking about the movie. Kathleen picked up on it.

"Don't worry, Dad. I'll let you know."

**Mark's Daisies  
-****7:14am-**

"Miss Landry, is this the man you saw?" asked Olivia, as she held up a photo of Sanchez and Munch stepped away for a phone call.

"That's the man. I remember his brown eyes and that look," the woman said as she continued with the arrangement. "He left and I turned around and the news was showing a picture of him, saying he was the one who hurt that cop's daughter. That's when I called you guys."

"Do you know what direction he was heading in?"

"Umm…he walked out the door and went left, but that window doesn't extend very far. I'm sorry I couldn't help you further."

"No, you've been plenty help, thank you."

"Olivia, that was the captain. Another witness saw him at a deli. Know where that is?" asked Munch, handing her the address.

"Yeah, and to get there you start by going left."

**Deli On A Dime  
-****7:27am-**

"That's him," said the witness, as he gave back the photo.

"And where did you last see him?" asked Olivia, with an adrenaline rush starting to make its way through her.

"Well, that little diner across the street steals a lot of my costumers, so I try and check it out every now and then. I looked across, and I saw him. I play the news twenty-four seven in here and it reminded me of that guy that they've been showing over and over again. I called you guys," he replied and calling an order.

Olivia looked behind at the diner. "Son of a bitch," she murmured under her breath.

"What is it?" asked Munch.

"The bastard's still there. Fourth table on the right, two o' clock," she said, trying her best to describe him without pointing as she turned back around. She couldn't believe it. They got him. There he was, right there, eating breakfast like nothing had happened. A million questions and thoughts ran through her head.

Munch gave a quick glance. "Alright, well, let's call the captain, get backup, and stake out here. Keep a close eye on him," he said, keeping a cool composure.

"Are you kidding me, John?" asked Olivia in disbelief. "We finally found the bastard that hurt her, and you decide that we're gonna sit on our asses!" she loudly whispered.

"We're not sitting on our asses, Olivia," he retorted. "We have to wait for backup. If we go after him right now, who knows what'll happen, or what kind of weapon he has on him. We have a huge possibility of losing him if we go after him now. What would you tell Elliot then?"

"I just don't think…"

"Well, remember what Captain said. Do the words 'by the book' ring any sort of bell?"

Olivia sighed heavily to show her annoyance. "Fine, call Cragen. Let's get 'em."

_20 minutes later…_

"Alright, you guys positioned?" asked Olivia through the radio.

"Yeah," came the response.

"Let's get this bastard," she said. She and Don walked into the restaurant and approached the table. Munch stood back. Sanchez knew what John looked like because of the case, but had never came in contact with Olivia or Don. "Julio Sanchez?" she asked.

"That's me," he replied, giving a smile that made Olivia's stomach churn.

"You know, this man has been so forthcoming. How 'bout we give something in return. Maybe _our _names?" she said, as she and Don flashed their badges. Sanchez jumped about a foot and started to run, but Olivia and Don were hot on his heels.

"Sanchez! Police! Stop!" she yelled, as he found himself cornered by just about every available cop in Manhattan, there on behalf of Elliot.

A/n – well! Did you enjoy it? I know a lot of you had said that this is really developing, but I wanted to give you something big. This big? ;) I love you guys! I want to thank each and every one of my reviewers and all the support and encouragement you offer me!

I also wanted to thank those who said that I have very mature writing style for fourteen. See, I have an _amazing _language arts teacher who also teaches my literature classes and she's taught me so much. She's so smart, and one of the few who know I write here for fun. She encourages me and constantly betters my writing when I write essays and papers. And she knows that I enjoy writing for fun and always offers me little bits of advice when writing. She hasn't seen the story or anything, but I know I've done her proud. You guys made that evident when you send me such remarkable reviews! Thanks so much!

Well, I'll try to update as soon as possible, and my soccer sequel isn't going as well as I wanted it to. Plus, another little ditty is playing my head for a one-shot. And it just won't leave! So, I might have to write that, too.

Oh, I know 'Shall We Dance?' was made in 2004, and this fic takes place in 2003, but I wanted to use it because, one: I love the movie and two: I made Kathleen a dancer and I thought her character might appreciate the movie. Hope you don't mind.

Well, thanks for listening and reading! Until next chapter, adios-Jessica


	5. Close to the Edge

Title: _Beautiful Soul  
_Chapter 5

Author: SVUFanatic611

Rating: PG-13

A/n – this one's long because I wanted to finish one event in this chapter from many POVs. Hope you enjoy. Oh, for the first time in this fic series, I've put in some Kathleen's POV.

Also, a big thanks goes out to the fabulous beta, FaithHopeLove! Awesome person who knows what she's doing and I value your online friendship over anyone elses, girl! Thanks for everything!

Disclaimer: SVU and its associated characters are not mine. The title was based on the song 'Beautiful Soul' by Jesse McCartney. I have no claim on the song, although I must say, I listen to it often.

_-Previously- _

_"You know, this man has been so forthcoming. How 'bout we give something in return. Maybe our names?" she said, as she and Don flashed their badges. Sanchez jumped about a foot and started to run, but Olivia and Don were hot on his heels. _

_"Sanchez! Police! Stop!" she yelled, as he found himself cornered by just about every available cop in Manhattan, there on behalf of Elliot. _

_Olivia Benson's POV _

"Sanchez! Stop!" I yell, trying so hard to keep my emotions in check.

I have my gun positioned, and it would be so much easier to shoot the sick son of a bitch right now, right here. I know that all the cops in here as witnesses would lie and say he was a threat and that I used the proper amount of force necessary to IAB. But, I can't give him the sweet, quick release of death. I have to let him suffer. Just like he let Megan Harris suffer. Just like he let Elliot suffer. Just like he let Kathleen suffer.

I share a glance with Don and I know he's feeling the same way. He has to be. The look of hurt, pain, confusion, and revenge only exist when you're feeling that and God knows, all of us in this room have that expression scribbled all over our faces.

It's silent for a moment. Everybody's looking at me to speak; they're only there for intimidation and gun power. But, I just can't speak. No words tumble out of my mouth. We caught him. We've hit the nail on the head, and it takes my breath away.

But, by the graces of God, I find my voice. And it isn't gentle. "Julio Sanchez, do_ not_ move!" I say loudly, and through gritted teeth. My hands begin to shake and I know Cragen sees it. He motions with his head to go ahead and arrest him, and I walk over to him, putting my gun in its holster, and cuffing his wrists, letting no gentleness shine through in my actions.

"Look, I didn't do nothing," he says in a weak defense, as he flails around.

"Double negative. He has to be guilty," says Munch, also with his gun positioned.

I don't listen to Sanchez and don't say anything in response. I know if I do, it wouldn't come out words. It would come out as punches, kicks, elbowing, and scratching. Instead, I stick to the words that are already drawn out for me; that I can't screw up.

"Julio Sanchez, you are under arrest for murder and rape," I say, as I roughly take him by the arm and start to lead him outside. I don't know if I should add the narcotic charges in there, but I don't care. Either way, he's going down for what he did to Kathleen. "You have the right to remain silent…"

My voice becomes monotone, speaking lowly and slowly, reading the bastard the rights he doesn't deserve. I shove him in the car, not really caring if he gets hurt on the way down. IAB will have my ass if they find out of any impropriety, but at this point, my ass doesn't seem as important as Elliot's emotions or Kathleen's spirit. If hurting him would make either of them feel better, it would happen, compliments of me, in an instant.

The drive to the station is silent and thick with tension, as my number one enemy sits in the backseat. I want to choke him. I want to punch him. I want to kill him. Forget suffering. Forget about getting justice. Justice doesn't exist. It's a myth. There is nothing that can be said or done by any of us, or done by the legal system that can equal the pain and absolute hurt that Kathleen had gone through. And because that was true, I want to get rid of him permanently.

I decide to save my emotions for the interrogation.

**SVU Squadroom**

I have Munch take him to the room so I can prepare myself. I have to remember: hands to home; speak in a non-threatening voice; tread lightly.

Hell, who am I kidding? It'll all be shot to hell when I get in there.

I pick up Kathleen's and Megan's folders and head to the interrogation room, where Cragen and Munch are waiting outside for me.

"Ready to do this?" asks Cragen cautiously, as I approach him.

"Yeah, Cap, I'm fine," I say, putting my hand on the knob. I want to get it over with.

"Listen, Olivia," he starts, his hand covering mine, "if things start to get too tense in there, don't think I won't pull you out," he says, with his business-tone written all over his face. It differs so much from the expression that he had worn at the deli.

"Look, Cap, he wants me to interrogate him. He wants to get caught. If he didn't, he wouldn't have been sitting at that deli like nothing had happened."

He gives me a slight tilt of the head, and lets go of my hand. "Olivia, you know this case like the back of your hand. Do we have the guy?" he asks, eyes filled with anticipation.

"Don, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that this is the guy," I say, filling the anticipation with an answer.

He nods gently. "Alright, well, you try to get something out of him, and I'll call the lab for the DNA analysis they got from the fluids on Kathleen."

I nod, and he starts to walk off when I stop him again. "Don," I say, and he turns around, "call Elliot. Have him bring Kathleen down so she can pick him out of a line-up."

He looks at me, and I don't feel like an argument. I just want to go rip Sanchez a new one. "Are you sure she's ready? Do you really think she can do it?"

"Cap, she can do it. I'm positive." Okay, I'm not too positive, but I have faith in Kathleen. She knows who did this to her, and I know that she'll be strong enough to get through this. She's a Stabler. She won't go down easily.

The cold of the doorknob finds its way to my fingertips once again, and I fall out of my trance. I open it and find the bastard, sitting at the table, hands folded on top of it, and staring into space. I feel the breakfast I had starting to churn in my stomach and I know I can vomit. But that's a weakness, and there's no room for those.

"Look, I don't know why I'm here," he starts. "I didn't do nothing."

I try to keep cool. I'd blow a gasket later. No need to waste my energy so soon on that bastard. "Really? You call kidnapping two girls: raping one of them, murdering another, raping another girl, killing a cop, and trafficking drugs 'nothing'?" I say, clutching onto the folders more tightly.

"How many times do I have to tell you? I did none of 'dat," he says, his empty eyes meeting mine.

I stare him down for a minute. "So, let me get this straight. About eighteen cops see you, half of them chasing after you during a drug bust, plus more who see you murder a cop. A girl was found murdered two blocks from your house with trace evidence from your house found on her. A girl was raped, and almost beaten to death," I said, and my voce began to rise, "in your house, thrown in a closet. Not to mention the DNA you left on the girl you raped two months ago. And let's add on the fact that cocaine was found all in your house. And you're going to sit there and tell me that you didn't do anything!" I end, my face right above his shoulder and his beady eyes staring at me.

"I didn't say my buddies didn't do anything," he says smugly.

"So, this was all your buddies?" I say, standing straight up, giving him a smirk. "And it just all happened in your house?"

He looks up at me, smirking as well. "You could say that."

"Well, good, then we can get you on facilitation, obstruction of justice, and statutory rape for Mary Adams, since she was only sixteen," I say nonchalantly as I walk to the other side of the table and sit down. He looks up at me and gives me a worried look. "That's at least a good fifteen years," I say, as I look down at the file that I don't open. "Give us the name of your buddies, and maybe we can knock off a couple of years," I lie.

He doesn't respond and a deafening silence overcomes us. I open Kathleen's file, and go through it, pretending to be busy. I try not to have the pictures and the police statement affect me, but it comes too much after awhile, and I open Megan's, skimming through it, and stopping at a few pages, trying to show him that I had nothing to worry about – he's in here for crimes, not me.

I stop at the page that has her photos, and stare at them. Without looking at him, I say, "Tell me, Sanchez. What was it like…raping sixteen-year-olds? Or murdering two people? How did it feel knowing that even sixteen-year-olds didn't want you?" I look up at him, and he's trying to stare me down. I try to burn holes in his shirt with my eyes, and I'm daring him to speak.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about…"

"Really? You have no clue who this is?" I ask, placing a picture of Megan before she was murdered in front of him, "and you have no clue who this is?" I continue, placing a picture of Kathleen in front of him. I continue with this process until my collection of pictures includes: Megan, Kathleen, Mary, Leo, and Elliot.

"Have no clue who any of 'em are," he says, his eyes running over the photos.

"Well let me refresh your memory," I say getting up and standing behind him. I bend so my face is right above his shoulder again and point to the appropriate picture. "This girl you murdered. This one you raped and beat until she passed out. This one you raped two months ago and this guy you murdered. Ringing any bells?"

"Well, while you're at it, what'd I do to him?" he asks, pointing to Elliot's picture. I'm not sure why I put that in the slew of photos. Maybe it's because he hurt Elliot as much as he hurt those others.

"You know, if I were you, I wouldn't be too concerned with what _you_ did to _him_. I'd be more worried about what _he's_ going to do to _you_ when he finds out you're here," I say, meeting those haunting eyes again. I know I can rip his head off right now; I can kill him, but a knock at the door prevents me from doing so. I keep the stare for a couple more seconds and exit the room, finding Don waiting outside.

"Don, you know I had it under control," I say in the gentlest voice I can.

"I know you did, Olivia," he says, still staring at the scum that sits in the room. "But I thought this might give you more ammunition," he says, handing over a folder. "Lab sent over the result before I had called them."

I take the folder with my gently trembling hands, and open it slowly. I study the contents. It was him. Fluids confirm it. He raped Kathleen for sure.

I look up and we share a glance. "Call Elliot?" It's the only thing I can bring myself to say. This is my defense mechanism. Staying with a topic I know and can control my emotions with. I know Elliot. Although, that is soon to be gone, too. He's beginning to lose himself with what has happened to Kathleen and when he loses himself, I don't know if I will be able to hold on to him.

"Yeah. He just needed a minute to talk to Kathleen, call Kathy, and then he's coming over."

I nod. "I'll be in there if you need me," I say, pointing to the door. He nods, and the silence fills the little corridor.

**Stabler Residence**

_Elliot Stabler's POV _

"Dad-dy!" my daughter says, playfully annoyed. "You keep doing that! Stop!" she says half serious, half laughing. For the past ten minutes, I've been messing with her hair, and even though it hasn't seen a brush in at least twenty-four hours, she still gets annoyed, and now it's turned into a game that I love playing. Luckily, she takes it as a game, and reacts in good taste. Honestly, I know she just doesn't care. She loves spending time with me and talking to me. But not as much as I love doing the same with her.

"What? I wasn't doing anything," I say with a sly grin, and we begin a light pillow fight. I still have to be mindful of the wounds on her back. After a few minutes of messing around, we settle back into the consuming couch and begin to relax again. I stroke her hair, and it doesn't bother her anymore. I'm glad because I love feeling it. It proves to me that she's here. That's she's not missing. It's tangible, and it tells me that it's not just a dream.

There's so much I want to say to her. How proud I am of her. She doesn't have to tell me, but I can see the wounds on her. She fought back. I want to say that she did the right thing when she got out of the aggressive relationship with that Phillip kid. I want to say that without her, even with her siblings here, my life wasn't complete. I want to let her know that she's not just a middle child. She's not just a surprise Kathy and I figured out when Maureen was four years old. She's my daughter, and I love her. I have to make sure she's knows that. I need to make sure she knows that she's always going to be my baby girl, no matter what anyone did to her.

Now is as good of a time as any.

"Honey," I say gently, breaking the flow of music coming from the movie.

"Yeah, Dad?" she answers, as she turns her head in my lap, and looks up at me.

I realize now that I could make her uncomfortable, so I decide to ask her permission. "Honey, do you mind if we talk?"

She lifts herself, pausing the movie, and moving so her head is now resting on my shoulder, rather than my lap. "Sure, Daddy," she says, wrapping both her arms around my one she's closest to.

"Listen, sweetie, I heard about what happened with Phillip…"

"Oh God…" she says, closing her eyes, and wrapping her arms around me tighter. I knew this would make her embarrassed or uncomfortable, and now I feel horrible.

"Sweetheart, I just wanted to say that I'm proud of you."

She looks up at me with a confused look. "Proud? You're proud of me for getting into a relationship where I could've gotten hurt?"

"I'm proud of the fact that you realized you were in one, and got out of it," I say, putting my hand over hers.

"I thought of you, you know," she says, resting her head back on my shoulder. "Some ask 'What would Jesus do?' I ask myself what you would do. And I know that you would've wanted me to get out of it. That he wasn't worth it."

I smile. "Well, it's good to know that all those talks I had with you didn't just go in one ear and out another."

She laughs a little. "I don't know if you know it, but I always listened to you. Even if I acted annoyed, I always listened. Daddy," she starts, staring at me with those blue eyes that make me want to know what's behind them, "I think I value your opinion the most."

"No way," I say jokingly.

"I really do, Daddy."

"Well, then value this: you are my baby girl, and nothing will change that. If you ever need to talk to me, I'll listen. I won't ever judge you and I hope you know that I love you more than anything."

She nods against my shoulder. "I know, Daddy."

"Good," I say, pausing for just a second. "Now, put the movie back on. I wanna see that Gere-person fall during this competition."

"He doesn't fall, Daddy," she says, still holding onto my arm.

"Well, then what happens?"

"Why don't you watch and find out?"

"You're no fun," I say, leaning further back into the couch, but the phone rings. "I'll be right back, baby," I say, as I get up and she lies down.

I hold the receiver in my hand, staring at it. I can't believe it. They caught the bastard. And quickly, too. I just can't believe that they have him right now. But what gets me more, is the fact that my daughter has to go through the police procedures now. The line-ups. The statements. The trial prepping. The testifying. The fear of whether or not he'll be convicted.

But, then again, will she want to go through all of it? She's my daughter, and I know in my heart she's strong enough to get through it all, even if it is soon, but does _she_ think she can do it? Does _she_ believe in herself? Will her fear overcome her? But, as much as I can think differently, I _have_ to remember that I will respect her wishes and won't pressure her into anything.

The noise from the phone that tells me Don has hung up makes its way to my ears, and it brings me out of my trance. I press the button to make it stop and put it back on the table where it was. I look in on Kathleen, who is completely oblivious to what is going on. She's too interested in the movie that she never heard a word of the conversation I just had with Don. For that, I'm grateful. I want to be the one that tells her.

She's lying on the couch with her head resting on the arm. The top of her head peeks out from the large pillows and cushions, and I can see her golden hair. I can hear her gentle laugh from where I stand, and for a minute, I think about not disturbing her at all. To just rip the telephone line from the wall, disconnecting any form of communication, and just joining her on that couch, watching Richard Gere try to dance for the rest of eternity; to just take away the pain that I know runs through her.

I get jolted out of my thoughts when she lifts her head from the huge pillow and looks up at me. "Daddy?" she says, ever so timidly. "Everything okay? Something happen?" she asks with worry, and I hate myself for a minute for standing there and not telling her anything.

I plaster a smile on, just to keep her calm. "Kiddo, we gotta talk," I say, moving from the kitchen to the living room. Her face is still covered in worry, but I'm prepared to just scoop her up, hold her, and never let go.

"What about?" she asks, again with that timid voice that means she's scared. She moves from her prone position to sitting against the pillow on the opposite side of the couch. She's still dressed in her pajamas and I wish for a minute that it could stay like this forever. Both of us staying home, lounging around in casual clothes, not worrying about school, paperwork, tests, rapists, boyfriends, or distant marriages.

"They caught him, Kat," I say, and I hope it explains everything. By the expression of shock on her face, explanations aren't necessary.

"They got him?" she whispers, more for her own realization than anything.

"Yeah, honey, they got him."

She sinks further into the pillow and the shock is still evident on her face. "What happens now?" she asks, her once-distant eyes focusing on me.

"Well, that was Cragen on the phone, and he said that it would help if you do a line-up." I can't say "wants you to do a line-up" or "needs you to do a line-up" because I know she'll feel pressured to do it and I can't have that. _She_ has to want to do this. _She_ has to do it because she wants to, not because her father's colleagues want her to, or because she feels pressured. "Do you feel up to it, sweetie?" I say, putting my hand on her knee.

She stares at me and I know she's unsure. I can feel her confliction of wanting to say yes, because it'll help put the man that hurt her in prison and wanting to say no, because she's not ready, or feels she can't positively ID him.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to."

"No," she says quickly. "I want to."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Daddy, I'm sure."

I can see the soft affirmation and confidence in her eyes, and it turns into a bright twinkle. I know she's ready. She's a Stabler and I know she's stronger than she thinks she is. However, I know she's got self-confidence, and somewhat knows she can do this.

"You can do this, baby, and I know that this is a little soon, but I know you can do this."

She nods. "Will you be there?"

"I can't go in with you, but I'll wait for you right outside." I pause and she seems a little doubtful. "Olivia will be there and she can go in with you."

"I won't be alone?"

"No, baby, Olivia will be with you."

She nods and her body relaxes a little. "Well, let's get going. You call Mom, and I'll go get dressed."

I know she's trying to be strong. She's trying to grasp some sort of control of the situation by acting like a leader, not crying, and acting like everything is going to be okay. Just for a moment, I want her to break down so I can hold her and tell her it's okay to cry. It's okay to be weak. In order to get strong, you have to be weak first. I want to hold her and have her cry her pain out.

"Okay," I whisper back. She gets up and walks up the stairs, her legs shaky, and her eyes uncertain.

I wish there was something I could do. God, I hate being powerless.

**SVU Squadroom**

_Olivia Benson's POV _

"How many times do I have to tell you! I didn't touch any one of 'em!"

"Really! Then how the hell did your DNA get on two girls whom you have never seen! Explain that to me, Sanchez!" I yell in his face. I feel myself losing it. I feel my hands shaking and I don't know where the hell my stomach could've gone to. I have to get out of here. I can't stand looking at him anymore. I can't be in the same room as this pig anymore.

I turn around and head for the door. I've been in here for the past ten minutes yelling at him, and I just can't handle it anymore. He hasn't given anything up, and chances are, he never will. Hopefully, we have enough evidence, that a confession isn't necessary.

I walk outside and into the little corridor. Casey's here, along with Munch now. They all greet me. They know I was a couple inches away from going postal and want to tread lightly.

"Casey? Do we really need a confession?" Don asks, and I know we were all thinking the same thing.

She looks from the window to all of us. "We've got his DNA on Kathleen and Mary, and it's obvious it's rape. Trace evidence pins specifically him to Meghan, but I need something solid for Officer Harris," she says.

"The eighteen-plus cops aren't solid enough?" asks Munch.

"The jury needs more than eyewitnesses. We need some solid, physical evidence that pins him to Harris. Get that, and a sympathetic jury won't hurt." We all nod, and she adds, "Olivia? Are you sure that Kathleen and Mary can ID him?"

I look at her, unsure. I was positive that Kathleen could ID him just a few minutes ago, but now I'm not so sure. "I think so."

"You better be more certain than that, Olivia. If we put them in a line-up and one or both of them fingers someone else, we're screwed."

"I know the risks, Casey," I say, and I know she can sense the agitation in my voice.

"Good, then inform Kathleen of them," she says, pointing to my partner, who is at the end of the hall, leaning on the wall, looking at us.

I make my way out of the crowd of colleagues to Elliot. His arms are crossed, and he gives me a small smile. "Hey," I say.

"Hey," he replies. "Listen, Liv, before we do anything, I wanna apologize to you for last night," he says as he looks down at the ground. Between wanting to kick the crap out of Sanchez, and hoping that Kathleen and Mary will be able to ID him, I've completely forgotten about last night. I guess he hasn't. He has that whole Catholic guilt thing going for him.

"Listen, Elliot, I think we both said some things that were said out of anger. How about we just forget it ever happened, okay?"

He nods, uncrosses his arms, and lifts himself off the wall. "Do you have him, Olivia? I mean, is this the guy?"

I didn't know what he'd do if he knows that the man that has single-handedly destroyed his child's life is sitting in the interrogation room. He'd probably go nuts, or literally kill Sanchez. As much as I want that to happen, I can't let it. It has to happen the way it's supposed to: Kathleen makes an ID, Casey arraigns him, he gets bail, victims live in fear until trial, the trial comes, both sides present their case, people testify, the jury deliberates, and then we all hope for the best. That's the way it's been; that's the way it'll always be. It can't stop for this case. I can't let it. I promised myself I'd work this like any other case and I can't back down now.

"We're almost positive, El. But, don't worry about him, okay? Try to focus all that energy on Kathleen. Alright?"

He nods a little. "I want to kill him, Olivia."

"You're not the only one, El."

He looks up at me, and his eyes are filled with desperation. I physically feel his pain, and for the first time in my life, I can't empathize with a victim. Elliot was hurt just as much as those others were, in other ways. But I can't feel for him with personal experience. My daughter wasn't raped and tortured.

It's not a long ways until the hallway ends, and we find Kathleen sitting on one of the benches we have, talking on a cell phone. "…No, Mom, I'll be fine, really…no, you don't need to come down here, I really am okay…Dad's here, I don't want you to take off your shift to just sit outside while I make an ID…I know you wanna be here for me, but I know you support me, and it's okay…I'll call you when I'm done, okay?" she asks, her legs crossed, and her free arm wrapped around herself. She looks up and notices us. "Listen, Mom, I gotta go…Yeah, I will…I love you, too."

She hangs up, and stands, handing the cell phone back to Elliot.

_Kathleen Stabler's POV _

God, this is so scary and uncomfortable. I've been in this stationhouse before, and to be honest, I never felt fully comfortable in here, even on a good day, without all the extra drama of my rape. I know what happens here; I know what kind of people come through here; I know that it's actually a safe haven for some people, but I'm just not getting that vibe.

I look up and see Olivia, and my body immediately relaxes. She's been so kind and considerate of me and what I've been through. I know my parents, Maureen, and the twins, if they knew, would be…_are_ the same way, but they have to. They're family. But, Olivia. Olivia doesn't have to talk to me. Olivia doesn't have to go out of her way to make sure I'm okay. Olivia doesn't even have to work my case. But she does. And that's way she's taken on a hero image in my eyes.

Don't get me wrong. I always knew that she was like that: kind, considerate, compassionate, patient…pretty much every virtue that exists. But, I was never directly affected by her. Sure, she was my dad's partner, and I've met her before, but that's all she was to me. Someone who worked with my dad. Someone who helped him put the bad guys away. And honestly, I always thought that's how she felt about me. I wasn't a victim, so she didn't need to focus her time on me. I was just her partner's daughter. We were always civil to each other, but it wasn't like we hung out on weekends, or were big parts of each other's lives.

But then I learn that she couldn't sleep during the search; she stuck up for me when Phillip was questioned; and she helped my family during all of it - you'd be surprised how much Maureen knows – and I'm shocked by it. Was I that important to her? Or was it because I'm her partner's daughter, and the only way to get him back to normal, was to find me? But, then she was so nice when she took my statement, and last night at dinner, she stood up to my dad and kept my confidence. Maybe it started out with helping Dad, but then turned into helping me.

But I can't focus too much on Olivia. I still have to make an ID. Which is another thing that scares the hell out of me.

Will I be able to do it? Can I really stand in that room and name the person that has taken everything from me: my physical virginity, my pride, my self-confidence, my trust in people, my trust in society, my love of the outdoors, my freedom, my content with my life. Everyone thinks I can, but I can't. I can't. I can't!

No, Kathleen, stop thinking like that. You can. You can. You can. The mantra plays over and over in my head, but it never sinks in. I don't fully believe it. What if I screw up? What if I name the wrong guy? What if I get in there, and just have a meltdown? But, if he is in there, and I do name him, what comes next? Will I have to testify? Will I be able to? Can I physically do that?

Oh God. My mind's wandering, and it's traveling into uncertain territories. I hate uncertainties.

I have all these questions that need to be answered. I have all these doubts that need to be either confirmed or denied. I need some sort of closure. I want to move on. How can I do that? How can I just move on? I got hurt. So what? Just let me go forward. But part of me doesn't want to go forward. Part of me wants to stay right where I am.

I hate questions. I've always been an answers kind of gal.

My mind has to stop wondering. I have to focus. I have to do this. I stand, handing the phone back to Dad, and Olivia reassuringly puts a hand on my shoulder and offers me a loving smile.

"You ready, kiddo?" she asks softly.

I look at Dad, who gives me a loving look, and then back at Olivia. "As ready as I'm ever gonna be," I reply.

"Come on," she says in a barely audible whisper, and she puts her arm around my shoulder as she takes me down the hallway that never seems to end. Dad gives my hand a small squeeze and then he talks about getting coffee or something.

I feel shaky and like breaking down, and I know Olivia senses it. "Kat, you okay? Are you sure you're ready?"

We stop and I look into her soft, comforting, chocolate eyes. "I don't know, Olivia. I…I…I want to do this, but I'm…just…I don't know," I say. God, do I sound like an idiot.

"That's pretty much the common feeling," she says, trying to make me feel better. "You wanna take a minute? Catch your breath?" she asks.

"Isn't he already in there?"

"He can wait as long as he has to. Why don't you sit down for a minute?" she says, and motions to the benches that are scattered throughout the hallway. I take a seat, and instinctively wrap my arms around myself. It has come to the point, that I have done this so often, that I feel weird if my arms aren't wrapped around myself. She sits next to me, and places a hand on my knee. I'm not quite so used to people touching me yet, but I can't let that show. If I admit it to Dad, then he'll always feel self-conscious around me, as will everyone else. I know it's something I'll get used to again. However, her touch is easy-going and soothing, rather than irritating. It's like she's trying to give me some reassurance through osmosis.

"Olivia? Is he in there?" I ask.

"Of course he is, kiddo. That's the only way the line-up will work."

I look at her, and I can tell that she doesn't get it. "No, Olivia, I don't mean just the guy you caught. Look, Olivia, you're just like my dad, and he knows when he has the guy when he gets a feeling. Like, he just knows that it's the guy. I'm sure you get like that, Olivia. Is it _him_? I trust you more than anybody right now and I'm sure you know who it is. Is it the guy you got?" There. I said it. Now, the response was what has me scared. Her face isn't exactly looking good.

She looks up at me through fluttering eyes that mean she's either tired or emotional. Maybe both. "Look, Kathleen, I would tell you if I could. But, I can't say anything. If I tell you anything that gives the look of impropriety or looks like I gave you a bias, not only could I lose my job, but then your case gets shot to hell. Just take your time, look at each one carefully, and I'll be in there. If you wanna stop, just let me know."

She seems like I would hate her for not telling me, but I understand. I can't hold it against her that she wants to keep my case as a solid win. "Well…ready?" I ask. She gives a perplexed look. "The only way that I can do this, Olivia, is if I have you there. You gonna be there?" I ask, looking at her, telling her I'm ready, and that I can do it.

"Always," she replies and we walk into the interrogation room together.

It's dark in here, and my eyes adjust rather easily. Captain Cragen is here, too, as is someone else. I don't know him, but he has the face of a lawyer. Why would a lawyer be here, other than Ms. Novak? Wait…two sides to a story, a lawyer to represent both…he's the defense lawyer. I get it now. God, does he have a sucky job.

Olivia still has her hand in the middle of back, just below my shoulders. I can feel the heat from her hands, and it offers me a certain sense of reality. This isn't just a nightmare.

"Do you know how a line-up works, Kathleen?" asks Cragen, hands in his pockets, and a sense of nervousness written on him. He's not supposed to be nervous, I'm the one who's supposed to be freaked. Why would he be nervous? Oh…wait; this is a case with a suspect. If I screw up the line-up, he could walk, never to be caught again. Seems I'm a little slow today with coming up with answers.

"Um…not really," I lie. I know exactly how a line-up works, but whatever stalls this entire action is fine with me.

"We're gonna bring in six men, each holding numbers. You're going to take a good look at all of them, and if he's in there, you say the number he's holding."

I nod, and Olivia turns my body to the huge window. They haven't brought in the men, and the room is still empty. I look down, and Olivia strokes my back a little. "Don't worry, Kathleen, they can't see you. And remember, just take your time. They'll wait as long as need be," she says, giving me last minute tips.

"They can't see me?" I ask.

"Nope. Two-way mirror," she replies.

"That's too bad," I say, looking into the window that shows into the still-empty room. Olivia gives me a confused look. I look at her and say, "If he's in there, I want him to know it was me that named his ass."

She strokes my back again, and smiles a little. "You sound like your father," she whispers.

I smile. "I'm gonna take that as a compliment."

"Bring 'em in," Cragen says into the little speaker box, and it terminates the nice little conversation Olivia and I had.

Six men enter the room, and my body tenses up. I look at each of the men and their features. Number one doesn't look like him; his nose is too big. Number two is a little thin. Number three's hair is too long – it couldn't have grown that much in two days. Number four…number four has his hair, his weight, and his nose. Number four _is_ him. I don't need to look at any other numbers. Oh my God, he's in there. Number four is the man who raped me. Number four is the man who destroyed my life. And for a minute, I regret that I can only identify him through a number – not a name.

But I just can't seem to get any of those thoughts out of my mouth. My eyes start to swell up, and I can feel myself start to shake, but I can't stop any of it. Olivia rubs my shoulder reassuringly, and runs a hand over my ponytail.

"Please let go of the witness," says the defense attorney. What an ass.

Olivia cooperates and lets go, but they don't know that I already know who the guy is. I want to tell them, but my mouth won't move.

"Kathleen, is he in there?" Olivia asks softly. I nod gently, not being able to speak, and she continues. "What number is he holding?"

I can't get away with nodding this time, and I have to answer. "N…number…He…He…" God, do I sound like an even bigger idiot. "He…He's holding number f…four," I finally get out.

"Where do you recognize him from?" Cragen asks.

"He was the one who kidnapped and raped me," I say, and then I look for Olivia behind me. She steps up to me, ready to comfort me, and I know that if the defense attorney says anything again, I'll hurt him.

"We're done," Cragen says into the speaker box again, and the men file out.

I fall into Olivia's arms, and she coos me gently and stoke my hair. "It's okay…It's okay, Kathleen…You got him…We nailed him, Kathleen…" She has her arms around my shoulders and she leads me out of the room. She knows I can't stay here any longer.

We walk out into the hallway, and she seats me on the bench we were on.

"I have to get to my dad," I say quickly. I can't let her see me cry more than she already has.

"Your dad can wait. Do you want a minute to catch your breath?" she asks with those chocolate eyes staring at me once again.

"That was so scary," I say, again wrapping my arms around myself.

"But you got through it, and that's all that matters," she says, as I fall into her arms for the umpteenth time since this ordeal started, and, yet, her reaction doesn't change. She accepts my crying and distraught figure each time, embraces me, and coos me back to a semi-calm state.

"Olivia, what happens now?" I ask against her chest.

"Well, he's gonna get booked, and then arraigned. Then, the case goes to the grand jury, and if they indict him, he's going to trial," she says.

"Will I have to testify?" I ask against her chest again, and her protective hands are wrapped around me. I think the only place that has felt safer is in my dad's arms.

"Casey will want you to," she says, pulling me out of the embrace and looks into my eyes, "but she's not going to make you. If you don't want to, then none of us will make you and we won't hold it against you."

"I don't know if I want to," I say, looking down.

"Just think about it. You have time," she says, putting a hand on my cheek, and offering me a smile.

I smile back, but I ask her something that's gonna put a dark aura on our conversation. "Olivia? Did you get my STD tests back yet?" I researched it, and they take just about a day or two.

"I do, actually. The hospital sent them over this morning. I'll give them to you when we get back there," she says.

"Did you look at them?" I ask, not because I want to know if she decided to take a look, but because if she does know, I know she won't lie about them, and I'll find out from her, rather than a sheet of paper. I hope she doesn't take it as "you-violated-my-privacy-and- looked-at-the-results" accusation and gets offended.

"They're not mine to look at," she says sincerely.

I nod and I notice that I've finally calmed down. "I better get back to my dad," I say, as I stand up.

She follows suit, standing up, and puts her hand on my shoulder. "Listen, Kathleen, remember what I said about calling me. If you ever need to, I'll be there."

"I know," I say, looking up at her. "Don't worry, I'll take up the offer sooner or later." I start to walk off.

"Kathleen?" she says, and I turn around.

"Yeah?"

"Remember the promise. If you ever need anything, anybody, we're here. Don't forget that."

I smile. "I won't, Olivia."

She smiles back, and we walk down the hallway together. Dad's at the end of the hallway, and I run up to him, giving him a hug. By as I hard as I squeeze him, he knows that the man was in there. He holds me, and what I thought earlier turns out to be true. The safest place in the world is in my dad's arms.

We start to leave, and Olivia hands me the manila folder that holds my fate. Daddy gives a questioning look, but I know Olivia won't say anything, and my dad knows that he'll find out sooner or later.

I give Olivia a reassuring look as I turn to leave, and my dad gives her a grateful glance. She nods to both of us and we start for the door. Daddy puts an arm around my shoulder as we make our way out.

"You okay, kiddo?" he asks, opening the door. The cold air hits my barely-dry face, and I quake. Daddy takes his coat off, and puts it around my shoulders.

"Yeah, Daddy, I'm okay," I say, and I know he's dying to ask me about what happened in there. He won't, because he knows that it might seem intrusive, but that doesn't stop him from wondering. "He was in there, Daddy," I say, and I hope it answers some of his questions, or at least gives him some confirmation.

"Talk to me if need anything?" he wants to make sure.

"I will, don't worry," I say.

It's at this very moment that I realize how many people are watching out for me.

A/n – whew! That was a long one, but I hoped you enjoyed it! Things have been so busy lately, that I haven't had a chance to update, but I'm glad that I got this one out! I'm working on Chapter 6 and it'll be out sooner rather than later! Until next post, adios! -Jessica


	6. Heartwrenching

Title: _Beautiful Soul  
_Chapter 6

Author: SVUFanatic611

Rating: PG-13

**A/n** – In the beginning, I use third person, but tell it from Kathleen's POV, so she doesn't know the name of her attacker, therefore dubbing him 'Number Four' due to the fact that he was number four in the line-up. Oh, and this one has no part of the actual case in it – only personal character development. I didn't know when to stop it, and I don't know how quickly chapter seven will get out, so hopefully this will hold you over for awhile.

A great shoutout for a great person, writer, and beta: _FaithHopeLove_, as always. She's behind a lot of my inspiration and continuance to write! Love ya dearly, online soul-sista!

Disclaimer: SVU and its associated characters are not mine. The title was based on the song 'Beautiful Soul' by Jesse McCartney. I have no claim on the song, although I must say, I listen to it often.

**The ride home…  
Same Day (****December 9, 2003****)  
-****8:30am-**

Kathleen's head, unable to be supported anymore by her tired body, fell against the car window. She let out a sigh and tears stung her eyes. She knew she would start crying, and decided against doing anything about it. She decided to let her tears flow freely, even with her dad sitting right next to her. She had been trying to hide these tears from everyone for the past few days and they physically couldn't stay in anymore. She had to let something out, and she figured if the tears were going to come now, she wouldn't allow them to be held back anymore.

And sure enough, a single tear rolled down her cheek, many following after that, and the salty taste reached her chapped, busted top lip. The soft sting it brought reminded Kathleen of the much larger pain she experienced with Number Four, and the aggressive memories that only seemed to get brighter and more vivid everytime she remembered, only brought more tears to her red eyes.

Elliot's eyes were detracted from the road and the horrible traffic when he heard a soft sniffle from his daughter. His eyes fell upon his weeping daughter, and his mind was no longer worried about the young driver in front of him who didn't deserve his license. His undivided attention was focused upon Kathleen, and his heart, already torn into a million pieces and stomped on, broke into a million more pieces at the sight of her crying. Of course, he had seen her cry before, for a number of different reasons, but this time was different. This time, he was the cause of the crying. If I had just stayed away from Sanchez, if I had just kept control of my anger, this never would've happened, he thought.

He placed his hand on his daughter's knee, and she flinched just a little. He retreated back and hated himself for a minute for having scared her. She looked up at him with puddles of tears on her face, and then they cascaded down her cheek. He placed his hand on her cheek, and rubbed his thumb over the fresh bruise that Sanchez had left. He wished with everything he had inside himself that he could take away all her pain, all her confusion, all her confliction, all her hurt.

Kathleen closed her eyes as her father placed his hand on her cheek. She loved and reveled in the feeling, but she couldn't look him in the eye. All she saw when she did have the courage, or perhaps audacity, to look into them, was sympathy and something that didn't sit with her well. Was it pain? Was it resentment? Was it disappointment? Whatever it was, she hated what kind of feeling it gave her and how it settled in her stomach. But, if she closed her eyes, she never saw any of that. She only felt the warmth that her father's hand gave, and as he gently brushed his finger over her large, shiny bruise, although she hated that her father had to see her like that, it didn't hurt – emotionally or physically. It was just gentle enough to comfort her and with just enough pressure to let her know it was real.

She reached up and took her father's hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. She opened her eyes and, as hard as it was, she tried to lose herself in her father's bright blue eyes that she, along with all her siblings, inherited. Words weren't spoken for awhile, but actions took on their own resonating sound – a sound of comfort, a sound of content, a sound of how delicate the situation was and how close everyone was to the breaking point.

But, Elliot was the first to speak.

"Honey, if I could take away every horrible feeling you're feeling now, I would. I hate watching you go through this, and if there was anything I could do to change that, I would," he said, his hand still on her cheek. He broke the glance for a second, and looked up at the traffic. He was going to be there for awhile, and for the first time in his life, he was thankful for being caught in the rush hour traffic.

"I hate having you watch me go through it. I hate the fact that you blame yourself, Dad, and I hate how things are never going to be the same again between us," Kathleen said, her eyes down and her voice thick with emotion.

Elliot grabbed his daughter's other hand, making both of his hands filled with his daughter's delicate ones. "First of all, I blame myself because it _is_ my fault. I know you heard me talking to Olivia last night about me losing my temper with him and if I had just kept it cool, this never would've happened. And second of all, how come things are never going to be the same between us? You're still my daughter, I'm still your father. I still love you with all my heart and that'll never change."

Kathleen took a deep breath before meeting her dad's eyes again. She tried snaking her hands out of his, but he wouldn't budge. "Daddy, you can't predict which suspect is going to keep a grudge or not. You had no clue this was going to happen, and you were doing your job – something I have never resented, something I have always been proud of, because I know you put away those who are a threat. I don't blame you, Dad. No one does. So stop blaming yourself," she said, with a certain tone of finality, but she continued, "And, Dad, things are not the same, and if you can't see that, you're not as good of a detective as I thought. Daddy, nothing's going to be the same between us…especially if you keep giving me that look," she ended, her eyes glued to Elliot's.

Elliot looked genuinely confused, and questioned his daughter, "What look?" he asked in an easy, soft tone.

"That one, Daddy," she said, "that one right there. The one that makes me think you're disappointed in me, or you feel sorry for me. That one, right there that is filled with sympathy. I don't need anyone to feel sorry for me. I don't need sympathy, Daddy. Especially from a member of my family. Especially from my dad…my hero."

Elliot was a little taken aback from his daughter's straightforwardness. He didn't find it disrespectful, but he couldn't remember a time when she had been that open with him. "I…I…I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't realize…God, I am so sorry," he said, squeezing her hands even more.

"I told you, Dad. I don't need sorry, I need help. More importantly, I need your help. I need you."

"I'm…" he trailed. He was about to apologize again, but cut himself off. "I guess it's hard to recognize what happened, sweetheart. But, I promise, I'll work on it." He couldn't promise he'd stop, because then he'd be lying. It was going to be hard to stop giving his daughter that look. For it wasn't that he _wanted_ to give her sympathy, but because he never thought that look implied sympathy. He thought it was one of gentleness and support. But, Kathleen had seen it differently, and he'd do anything at this point to make her life a little easier.

"That's all I'm asking for, Daddy; that you'd try."

It was silent for a minute, but the ever-gentle voice of Elliot Stabler – father and protector, not Detective Stabler – crusader and justice-seeker, filled the car again. "Do you want to talk about anything?" he asked his daughter, looking into her eyes.

"I told you, Dad," she said, looking down, "I want to tell you everything that happened, but I need time. _I_ have to figure out and understand what happened to me before I can tell anyone else."

Elliot ran his hand over her cheek again. "I know that, sweetie, but that wasn't what I was talking about. I meant…" He took a deep breath, and found himself lost in her baby blues once again. "I meant…Do you want to see someone for this?"

Kathleen gave her father a small, confusing look. "Talk to someone? You mean a shrink?" she said, with a little agitation.

"Yes, I meant a psychiatrist."

"Dad, no, absolutely not," she said, taking her hands out of her father's and no resistance was shown, and she turned away from him.

"Sweetheart, I know it'll be hard at first…"

"Dad, are you serious? I mean…no. Just…no," she said, adamantly.

"Fine, the answer's no. Give me a good reason _why_ that's the answer," he said, also turning back to his original position.

"Dad…" she started, in a tone that meant she didn't want the conversation to go any further.

"No, Kathleen, I won't let this go. I need to know why you think that. I need to make sure that you don't want to go because of a legitimate reason, not because you just don't feel like it."

"Well, 'I don't feel like it' is going to have to be legitimate enough."

"Well, it's not, Kat. So give me a good reason," he said gently, yet firmly.

Kathleen sighed and gave into her father. It was just like old times – her father always challenging her opinions to see if she would really stick to them…and she missed that. "Dad, I…Dad, I'm your daughter…through and through. Like you, I just don't like shrinks. I don't ever want to talk to one…especially not now."

"Don't hate shrinks just because I do, Kathleen. That's not a good reason."

"Good enough to me," she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Kathleen…"

"If I say that I'd think about it, would you drop the subject for right now?"

"Only if you mean it," he said, turning back to her.

"I mean it, Dad. I'll think about it, but my answer will most likely be no," she said, looking out the window.

"Just keep your promise and think about it. That's all I'm asking."

Kathleen agreed with a nod of her head, and the car once again fell with silence. And, yet, once again, Elliot was the first one to terminate it. "Didn't you promise your mother that you'd call her after you were finished?" he asked, pulling at his cell phone and holding it out to her.

She turned and took the cell phone, but didn't flip it open. "Daddy?" she said softly.

"Yeah, honey?"

"This…what just happened, where you talked to me, and even challenged me and actually talked to me like a father, like a person – I like that. Let's promise not to lose that, okay?" she said, as she looked up at him from her trembling fingers that were playing with the antenna of the phone.

"Promise," said Elliot, as he held out his pinky. Kathleen smiled a true smile and intertwined her pinky with her father's. "Now call your mother. I'm sure she's worried about you."

Kathleen looked down at the cell phone in her hands and flipped it open, dialing the numbers.

It was silent until Elliot heard a woman pick up the phone on the other line. "Hi, is Kathy Stabler available? This is her daughter, Kathleen, and it's a bit urgent. She knows what I mean." Elliot kept his eyes on the road as a pause occurred. "Hey Mom…no, I'm fine…yeah, I'm okay, really…Mom, can we talk about everything when you get home? I don't wanna do this over the phone…I love you, too, Mom…No, I'm really okay…I love you, Mom…I'll talk to you when we get home, I promise…yeah, he's right here…bye, Mom, I love you," she said, and the conversation was over. She handed the open phone back to Elliot and said, "She wants to talk to you."

Elliot took the phone and talked to his wife for a bit. By the sigh that Kathleen let out, this journey of healing wasn't going to be easy…on anyone.

And he hated that.

**Stabler Residence  
-****4:48pm-**

_Kathy Stabler's POV_

"Hey, Mom! Guess what? I got a ninety-eight on my math test today!" said Liz, as I walked through the door, home from my shift.

"That's great, honey," I said calmly, yet still in a tone that told my daughter I was proud of her, as I hung up my coat. "Did you let Kathleen know?" I made my way to the living room and started picking up the various things that were on the floor, but I really wanted to run up to Kathleen's room, scoop her up, and never let her go.

"Well, I went to her room, but I heard crying, and I didn't think it was a good time," Liz replied, flopping down on the couch with a sigh. I placed the things down, and sat next to my daughter. With all that had been going on with Kathleen, and both my and Elliot's attention on her, I was sure that Liz was feeling a little neglected.

I brushed a piece of hair out of Liz's face and placed a hand on her knee. "Sweetheart, you know things have been kind of hard around here for the past week, but I'm really proud of you for being there for Kathleen," I said, looking into my daughter's blue eyes that reminded me so much of my husband's.

Liz bit her lower lip as she looked up at me. "I haven't been there for her, Mommy. Not like I should have. When I heard her crying, I should've gone in there. I should've comforted her, but I didn't. I just left…because I was too scared," she said, sounding so defeated. It reminded me of the same voice Elliot used when he hadn't caught the suspect – well, when he _did _talk to me about work and what suspects he had and hadn't caught. I took my daughter into a hug, and stroked her hair.

"Listen to me, Liz. When you cry, do you want Dickie at your door, prodding you and asking you questions on why you're crying?"

"No," she said against my chest in a voice that meant she was going to start crying any minute.

"Exactly, sweetheart. You didn't let Kathleen down when you left her alone. You respected her privacy and her space – something that you would've wanted if you were in Kathleen's spot," I said, as she pulled out the hug and jabbed at her tears. Just like her father – won't let one tear show.

"But I just don't like it when she cries. I don't know what to say. I don't know what she's been through and I don't know what to do that would make her feel better," she said, still jabbing at the tears that wouldn't go away.

I took her cheek in my hand and looked at her, as she looked down. "I know, sweetie. I know how hard that can be. And I don't want to scare you, or make you feel worse, but it might be like that for awhile. And, honestly, Liz, Kathleen doesn't need sympathy, and she doesn't need anyone to sit and try to talk her out of her tears. She just needs you and your support. She wants to see you happy and when she sees that," I said, as I lifted her chin to see her twinkling eyes, "she's happy. That makes her feel better, Liz – watching you be happy and not affected and stuck on what happened to her," I whispered. "She wants to move forward and doesn't want everyone stuck behind on this. When she's ready to go forward, it'll be so much easier on her if you're ready, too."

She didn't seem convinced, and I had to explain further. "But, if that doesn't feel like enough, then when she's feeling better, ask her to help you with math, or ask her to play a board game, or ask if she'd help your cheerleading team with some dances. Or maybe ask her to help you with your voice lessons next time she's on the piano. I know that kind of stuff will help her, too."

My youngest daughter looked up at me, her tears all wiped away, and she gave a small, grateful smile. "You sure that'll work?"

"Yeah, honey, I am," I said.

"Okay, I'm trustin' you, Mom," she said, as she pulled me into a quick hug. I savored it, and stroked her hair a bit. But, yet, I still didn't feel comfortable because, all that week, my daughter had been left out.

"I got an idea, Liz. How about on Sunday, we go to the mall and do some shopping together? For being so great during this past week?"

She looked up, eyes so hopeful. "Really? Just you and me?"

I smiled and took her chin into both of my hands. "Yep. Just you and me."

"I'd really like that."

"Good. Now…do you have any clue where your father might be?"

"Um…when we came home, I saw him go into the bedroom, but I don't know where he might be now. I was in my room doing some science homework."

I could feel myself going into mother mode as I said, "Did you finish all of it?"

"I just have a couple more questions to answer on the chapter review."

I nodded, and put my hands in my lap. "Why don't you go finish that up, and then come help me pick out something to order for dinner. I don't feel like cooking anything, and I'm sure something miraculous isn't going to happen that's going to make your father make dinner."

Liz giggled at the thought of Elliot cooking – it's something he hadn't completely mastered. "Okay. I'll be down soon." She stood and scampered up the stairs. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for Elliot. After twenty years, you tend to know someone better than anything, and I knew that he was probably somewhere alone, pondering why this happened, hating himself because it had, and cursing God for creating a world in which these kinds of things happen, especially to his daughter. He was probably on the edge, ready to hit something, or was completely in a state of numbness.

I walked up the stairs and made my way to our bedroom. I knew that Liz had been in her room for awhile, but chances were that Elliot hadn't moved. And sure enough, I peeked into the room with the half-opened door, and found the sight of my husband sitting on the edge of the bed. His back faced me, but I knew that he was filled with emotion, filled to the rim with anger, rage, sadness, tears, and confusion.

"El?" I said quietly, and my voice penetrated the dark, gloomy, and consuming silence. He didn't flinch when his name was said. His nickname, really. One that was only used by two people. Well, it used to be one, until Olivia stepped into the picture.

Now, it belongs to both of us. Just like my husband.

She may have him during the day, and she may be the one that gets him to talk and open up, even if it is for only a moment, but I have him when he gets home – in a broken state; a product of the what evil is trying to destroy, and for awhile, it's been succeeding, but it won't in the end. It never does. Not with my husband working hours on end to stop it.

Olivia may have him when he's strong, but I have him when he's weak. I'm the one who has to build him up so he can go back to the job, and ultimately her, everyday. Olivia and I share only one thing in common: my husband. And we both see sides of him that the other doesn't. She sees him when he's strong, willing, able, and stubborn, and her job includes keeping that part of Elliot going. But me, I see Elliot when he's weak, run-down, disappointed, and defeated, and part of my job is rebuilding him. She did her job that day during the line-up, keeping him sane, lucid, and under control. Now, my turn had come. I had to rebuild him and prevent him from going over the edge.

"El?" I said again. Then, my eyes fell upon the nightside tables on both sides of our queen-sized bed. They both held pictures of our children – the twins on my side; the two older girls resting beside him. But, as I looked at mine – both pictures there, undisturbed – my eyes fell upon his side. Maureen's picture was there, untouched, but Kathleen's was gone. I knew it wasn't missing. I knew exactly where it was – in my husband's death grip. He didn't want to let go of what used to be of Kathleen. He didn't want to accept the new person she was going to become as time went on because of the rape.

He didn't want to admit that his two worlds that he had successfully kept apart for so many years – home and work – had come crashing down together, in perfect unison, and the remains stood in front of him in a big heap, clashing together and making it that more difficult to tell the difference between the two.

He didn't want to accept the fact that now his daughter was a victim, and in turn, so was he. And the only way to keep going on like that – not admitting, not accepting, never seeing – was to hold onto the past; was to hold forever onto that picture.

"El…please talk to me," I said, in a tone where even I could sense my desperation, and as I leaned against the doorframe.

"I'm fine, Kath," was his simple response. He didn't turn around. He didn't flinch. He didn't show a sign of moving. It was like he was completely catatonic. I'm sure only nuclear war would've gotten him moving.

Well, maybe not. Nothing mattered anymore in his eyes. One of his daughters was a victim of the crimes he tried to prevent. His world was gone, as far as he was concerned. He didn't realize that there was still life after rape; that he had three other children that still needed him; he had another that would never stop needing him; and that he still had me. I could've walked off years ago, after all those unkept promises of being home before dinner, or after all those times he would never open up to me. But, I stayed. Because I loved him. Because I could tell he needed me. Because I needed him. Couldn't he see that his life wasn't over? That he still had plenty to live for.

"El, don't lie to me. After all this, please do not lie to me," I said with a sigh. "You're not fine, and if there's anybody that has to know when you're not okay, it's me. Please don't shut me out this time."

"I'm not shutting you out, Kathy."

"El, if you can't see that you're shutting everybody around you out, then I'm sad to say that you're New York's finest."

"Kathy, I haven't…"

"Are you kidding me, Elliot? Do you really not see it? How from day one, you decided to close all doors of your emotions to me? That after all these years, you've maybe mentioned three cases total to me at home? I'm tired of it, El. This time, it isn't just a case. This time, it isn't just a victim. This time, you have got to talk to me. This one is my daughter, too, and I will not stand back and watch you crumble because you have everything built up inside."

He didn't say anything. No arguments were made. No other options discussed.

"Listen, El," I started, as I walked to the bed and sat down next to him, "I can only imagine how hard this is. The crimes you investigate take a toll on you, even when you don't know anything about the victim. I know that. I'm not oblivious to that. And I can only imagine how hard it is to watch your own daughter, your own flesh and blood, get put through the extra police procedures that scare the hell out of you. I can only imagine how hard it is. But, please, don't close that off. Please don't shut me out," I said, as I placed a hand on his shoulder. Again, he didn't move, and it stabbed me in the heart. I needed him to show true emotion. But, yet, I still needed him to be the strong person he had always been. Because, God knows, I couldn't be one.

His eyes remained fixed on the picture of our smiling daughter. She looked so glorious in that picture. She looked like an angel. She looked so much different than now – broken and lost, hurt and confused. No wonder why he looked the way he did.

It remained silent for awhile, as we both sat on the bed, looking at the picture, longing for past to resurface. "I'm sorry, Kath," was his response. "It's just…I don't…I can't…I don't know what to do anymore, Kath. I don't know where to go, what to say. I'm lost, Kathy," he admitted to me. His bloodshot eyes finally meet mine, and he said, "I'm just so afraid that I'm going to take Kathleen, or any one of my children, down with me when I'm like this. I'm afraid that if they see me like this, they'll come right down to this level, and I can't let that happen. I can't…" His head dropped once again.

"Look, Elliot, this is hard on all of us. I think everyone is down at that level already. Maureen can't think in classes and she's terrified of walking around the campus alone. Liz is so conflicted and has no clue what the hell is going on. She feels awful because Kathleen feels awful, and there's nothing she can do about it. Dickie seems withdrawn and even though he won't show it, he doesn't know what to feel, how to feel, and how to deal with it. And me…El, I don't know where to go, either. I can't concentrate at work, and watching my daughter go through this is just as hard on me as it is on you. I think we've all reached the level already, El, and it sure as hell wasn't your fault."

He was silent again, and, again, we remained seated. The picture was still in my husband's grip. His knuckles were white from holding it so tight, and I finally placed my fingertips over it, remembering, and almost feeling, what used to be.

"Kathy…it was so hard…" he began, and I felt hopeful for a minute that he was going to open up to me. He got up and started to pace, his fists flexing, and his pace quickening. He didn't complete the thought for awhile, until I said his name again, and he replied with, "I just…I couldn't believe…Couldn't believe my daughter…_my daughter,"_ he said, as he stopped pacing in front of me, and pointed his finger into his chest, emphasizing 'my'. "I…I…I couldn't believe that she had to do any of this. I couldn't believe…I let her down, Kath…I didn't put the perv away…I…I…I…oh God…" he said, as he stopped abruptly in his tracks again and his words coming out in a barely coherent jumble.

I stood up, and stood in front of him, my hands on his shoulders. My fingers looked so small and so weak compared to his strong, muscular torso. "El, listen to me. You didn't let anyone down. I know you want to blame someone. You want to blame someone more than anything. And, if you follow that logic, you're going to come to Sanchez. But, because he's not behind bars, or you haven't had to chance to kick his ass yet, you want someone to blame, right here and now. You want to give Kathleen someone to blame in the hopes it'll make her feel better, that it'll make this process easier on her. And because you'd give your life for your kids, you're giving Kathleen yourself. You're telling Kathleen to blame you."

He looked up at me, but avoided direct contact with my eyes.

"Well, Elliot, you can stop it. You can stop offering yourself to Kathleen, because I can tell you right now, she won't blame you. She won't even think about it. The only person she blames right now is probably herself…"

"But it's not her fault…"

"Well, go tell her that, El. Go tell her it's not her fault. Go and hold her, El. She needs you…more than anyone else. She needs you to be strong. She needs you to be able to hold her up."

Elliot looked from side to side, trying so hard not to meet my eyes. Tears burned the rim of his eyes, but not one tear fell. They never did. Not with him. "How…How…can you be so sure of all this?"

Was he kidding? Or was he trying to stall and buy time? "I know our daughter. I understand her. That's part of my job," I said, as I looked down. "And I know you, Elliot. I understand you. That's part of my job, too."

His eyes finally met mine, and he brushed his knuckles gently over my cheek. "What do we do now?" he asked softly, and it was the first time in all our twenty years of being together that he didn't know what to do, and had relied on me to lead him in a direction. He usually had a sense of direction, and usually led me, but, then the rolls were reversed – well, maybe not reversed – balanced maybe. We both depended on each other now, fully and completely.

I imitated his actions, and brushed my slender fingers over his face, and I could feel the mild stubble on his face. "We go into Kathleen's room, and don't leave until we have some sort of plan. We have to let her know that she has a lot of choices to make, and the sooner she makes the decisions, the better. We have to wait while she sorts through every emotion, and if that means sitting there for hours and holding her and watching her cry, then so be it. We go in there…and be parents to our daughter who's been hurt."

Elliot took me farther into his arms, and our foreheads rested against each other, and we simply enjoyed the solitude and peace for a minute, until reality kicked in again, and we heard Liz yell. "Mom! I'm done! Where are we going to order from!" she yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

"Order?" said Elliot, and he squeezed me closer.

"Yeah. I don't feel much like cooking, and I'm sure you're not up to it."

"Ordering it is then." Our embrace broke, and he got the phone. "I'll call in the order, and then we'll go talk to Kathleen. Sound like a plan?"

"Yeah," was the only word I could manage to get out.

_Kathleen Stabler's POV_

Okay, Kathleen, it's not that hard. Just open the packet and look at the papers. Just open the packet, look at the papers. Just open the goddamned packet, and look at the papers! It's not that hard. Come on, Kathleen, you can do this. Deep breath.

I was sitting on the bed, and the folder sat on the edge of my desk. It was an arms length away, and I had easy access, but it didn't make anything easier. I reached my hand out to the manila folder that hadn't been opened, and I could see my hand trembling. I pulled it back into my lap for the umpteenth time. I just couldn't do it. I just couldn't bring myself to read the results. What if I had some disease from this low-life bastard? What if I was HIV positive? What if I had Gonorrhea? Syphilis? Chlamydia? What if I was pregnant?

What if I was perfectly fine?

Why was a preparing for the worse? Why was I worrying when maybe I had nothing to worry about? Because I was a cop's and nurse's daughter, that's why. Nurses and cops always prepared for the worst. Nurses and cops always played worst-case scenario. Damn Mom and Dad.

Just open the goddamned packet, Kathleen. That's the only way to know. That's the only way to solve this whole thing. Just open the folder.

I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't.

Maybe I should call Olivia. She'd know what to do. She'd know what to say to make this whole thing better. It's weird, really. I found myself looking to Olivia rather than my parents when it came to this kind of thing. Why was that? Was it because she _wasn't_ my parent that made it easier to talk to her? Maybe.

I reached my hand out again, and that time, my fingers reached the ends of the folder, and I felt like I was going to do it.

But a knock at my door caused it to come straight back into my lap.

"Who is it?"

"Us," came the response of my parents. Ugh.

"Can we do this another time?"

"No," said my dad, firmly. "Open the door, Kathleen. All of us have to talk."

I sighed audibly, so they knew I was annoyed. "Alright, just one second." I took the manila folder and stuffed it under the rumpled covers on my bed. Hopefully, they would never notice. "Come on in, door's open," I said, as I laid back in my bed, sinking into the pillows.

My parents walked in with worried expressions on their faces. Mom walked over, gave me a hug without saying anything, and I accepted her embrace. I really wanted her to know that I was okay, and that I got through it. I really didn't want her to worry.

"So, what's up?" I asked nonchalantly.

My dad stood back in front of the door, closing it, and I could tell he was going into cop mode. He had this stance about him that let me know he wasn't Dad – he was Detective. My mom sat on my bed, right in front of me, worry etched on her face that seemed permanent. What was this? An intervention? A stern talking to? A family meeting without half of the family here? I'll tell you what it was – a pain in my ass conversation that I didn't need on top of everything. I just wanted to be left alone. I just wanted to sit in my room forever, never to be disturbed, never to be talked to, never to be expected to do anything. I wanted to die. I wanted to become nonexistent. I didn't want to be a part of any family and I sure as hell didn't want to be sitting there.

This is so weird. Because in the car, all I wanted was to hold onto Dad and never let go. All I wanted was to see Mom and tell her I was okay. All I wanted was my family to stand behind me.

Boy, I hate mood swings.

But what was bringing them on? Was it because I was a teenager? Or was it because I was a raped teenager? Ugh! I hated all these thoughts running through head! I can't stand it anymore! I can't stand having all these unanswered questions, all these assumptions, all these fucked up feelings, all these tears. I can't stand it!

"Well, kiddo, we need to talk and this may take awhile…" started Dad.

"Talk about what?" I interrupted.

"Look, sweetie, there are a lot of things that we have to sort through right now…_you_ have to sort through right now," said my mom. I could sense a little good cop/bad cop taking place. Why was I being treated like a suspect in my own room?

"What kind of things?" I asked, more harshly than I would've wanted.

"Pretty big things, Kathleen. Things that require decisions and the sooner you make them, the easier it's gonna be," said Dad, just gently enough to not be threatening.

"Dad, stop beating around the bush. _Exactly_ what things? _Specifically,_ what do I have to make choices on? How the hell do expect me to make any decision if you don't make a damn thing clear?" I said, turning away from my mother on my bed slightly, and turning my eyes away from Dad's ever-growing stare.

"Kathleen, calm down, okay? We really just want to talk…" began my mother, putting her hand on my knee. It reminded me a little of Olivia's – soothing and comforting – but I really just wanted them to leave.

"Again, I ask: What things do you want to talk about? That's all I want, Mom. I want a straight answer."

My mom took a deep breath and then glanced at my father. "Kathleen, I…your father and I can understand the hostility. We don't know what you're going through or any other feelings that go along with it…" she trailed. She took my chin in her hand, and gently turned my face toward hers. I opened my eyes and saw big hazel pools that were my mom's eyes and I could feel tears starting to form. "But, we want to, Kathleen. We want to help you. We want you to be able to talk to you…if you'll let us," she ended. "Please let us in, Kathleen," she whispered, and I don't think our glance broke for a good minute.

I thought for a second. If I accepted their plea, then that would give them license to ask and constantly nag me about what I was feeling, and I would have to answer because "I let them in and promised to keep them involved in my life." If I didn't, then they wouldn't ask me because they'd feel "intrusive", but then I'd always have everything inside and they'd always give me that sympathetic look that I absolutely hated. I had to make a decision fast. Oh God. I hope it's the right one.

"Where do you guys want me to start?" I asked looking down, and avoiding eye contact. I knew they were sighing sighs of relief that I'd let them in. Lucky them. They'll eventually know how two men brutally raped and tortured me. They'll share all my fears and insecurities. They'll know if I have some sort of disease or something from this sick pig. They'll hold me while I cry my eyes out. They'll watch me testify if I choose to. Yeah, real lucky.

"Sweetheart, we know that you're not ready to tell us what happened those three days, and we respect that. We're not forcing you to tell us, if that's what you're thinking. We just want you to know that you have some major decisions resting on your shoulders; decisions that won't get any easier to make with passing time. And, if you're thinking that it's not fair, you're right. It's absolutely not fair and nobody should have to be put into that position. But, you still have to make them, and we want to help you," said my dad. He wasn't Detective anymore…he was Dad.

"What kind of decisions?"

"Well…whether or not to testify," he said, looking down. He wanted to take this one issue at a time. And I knew he wasn't going to move on unless he had an answer to the one prior to it. What a hell of an issue to start on, huh?

"Daddy, I don't know if I want to or…"

"That's why we're here right now, Kathleen. So you…we can figure it out together. Do you want to write out a list of pros and cons maybe?" my mom asks. I don't want a list. I want to figure it out on my own. I want time. Olivia said I still had time. Why rush?

"No, Mom, I don't want to make a list," I whispered gently. "Can we just leave this issue alone for awhile? I'll make a decision, I promise I will. But, seeing him today was hard enough as it is when there was a plate glass window between us. I just need some time. Olivia said that I had some time. I want to use it. That okay?"

Just what I thought. They didn't protest. Bring Olivia or any other third party into the conversation, and they drop like flies.

"Yeah, honey, that's fine," replied my dad.

"Well, what else?"

"Your pregnancy and STD tests. We need to talk about the results. If they…" started my mom, but she stopped when I turned pale. "What is it, honey?" she asked, putting a hand on my cheek, but I just couldn't speak.

"Is that what Olivia gave you when we left? The test results?" asked my dad. Boy, he's sure to be the next Sherlock Holmes. Only took him a few good hours to figure it out.

I didn't say anything, but nodded my head against my mom's warm hand. She completely took my face into her palms and wiped the oncoming tears. She hugged me, and asked me the question I knew both of them had been dying to ask. "Did you read them yet?"

I shook my head to implicate 'no' and my mom pulled me in closer. I caught a glimpse of Dad, and as I looked up at him, I noticed something different. He was still the same, but there was something different about him that I couldn't put my finger on it. Clothes? Nope. Hair? Nope. Posture? Nope. Shoes? Nope. Eyes? No…wait. That's what was different. His eyes and his look didn't carry sympathy anymore. They were just filled with want to help me. He kept his promise.

"I'm gonna read them, but I guess that might take me a while, too. I tried as soon as we got home, but it was just hard," I said, and I knew that both Mom and Dad understood how hard it was for me to admit that.

"Well, when you're ready, you open them and let us know, okay? Just remember, Kat, the sooner you know…" my Dad trailed.

"The better it'll be," I completed. "I know. Anything else?"

"Well what about the pregnancy test?" asked Mom.

"I'll schedule an appointment," I said, quickly. I didn't want to go into the issue of whether or not I'm carrying that pig's child. I can't. Because if I am, I don't want to find out in front of them.

"Kathleen…" started my dad, thinking I was just avoiding the situation.

"Dad, really, I'll schedule one. My friend, Chloe…her mom runs this clinic. I'll talk to her."

They nodded, knowing I was uncomfortable. "Okay, just let us know when it is," Mom said.

The conversation didn't end there. We spent hours talking about what had happened. I didn't go into details, and they didn't ask. But, I found out some interesting things. This story made national news, making me like Elizabeth Smart or Carlie Brucia. My parents did a press conference. My teacher, Mr. Blake, was suspected of kidnapping me, as was Phillip O' Brian.

I know my side of things of those three days was horrible and traumatizing, but being on the other side wasn't easy either.

**-****8:56pm-**

_Third Person POV _

"How long do you think she'll stay up there?" asked Elliot. He and Kathy sat at the dining room table, eating the pizza Liz and Dickie had left them.

"Who knows? But, I do have to say, that she's your daughter through and through and she's as stubborn as hell. She could be up there until hell freezes over," said Kathy, glancing at a magazine article.

Elliot nodded and took a bite of his slice. "I think the talk went well, don't you?"

"Yeah, I think it did," Kathy said as she smiled a little. "She's gonna be okay, El. She's gonna need time, but she's gonna be fine," she said, reassuringly.

Elliot nodded again, and mirrored his wife's tiny smile. "Yeah, she will."

They barely noticed Kathleen slipping into the kitchen. She quietly and silently padded into the kitchen, and as she passed the table, she laid the packet of papers that held her test results, and continued to the fridge, opening the door.

"So, Liz and Dickie leave me anything?" asked Kathleen, nonchalantly and emotionless.

"Yeah, Liz left you a couple slices in the fridge," said Elliot, blankly and absent-mindedly, as he took the packet in his hands. Kathy gazed at the papers and at Elliot's face. Kathleen stood from the kitchen, watching her two parents.

Elliot slipped the papers out of the big envelope, searched for the results, and, expressionless, handed them over to Kathy. Kathy looked worried as she took the papers into her hand, and, after she read them, she looked back at her daughter who had forming tears in her eyes. Kathy and Elliot shared a glance before both of them stood up and made their way to Kathleen, grabbing her for a hug at the same time. The papers were left, thrown down on the table; the neat pile diminished as they were strewn across the tabletop. But nobody cared. There was only word on there that mattered; that was repeated across the numerous test results. That, throughout the numerous words that only doctors could decipher, it was the only word that meant anything to anybody.

Negative.

A/n – well, I've come to terms with the fact that I write long chapters – always have, always will – and I'm glad that so many of you are receptive to that. J This one was especially long, because I have junior high graduation coming up, and it's a pretty busy time of year, and I honestly don't know how fast I can get out another chapter…so, I hope this one holds you over for awhile. Hope you enjoyed, and FaithHopeLove is right, it is great to see all those reviews in your mailbox, so reviews are always welcomed…and I'm open to any and all suggestions/con-crit! Until next chapter, adios! -Jessica


	7. One step forward, two steps back

Title: Beautiful Soul  
Chapter 7

Author: SVUFanatic611

Rating: PG-13 – strong language (one mention of the "f" word)

A/n – Well, sorry it took so long to get this one out, but my junior high graduation was the other night, and all the events leading up to it, left me so busy! Hope you can forgive me! I hope you enjoy this one! **In case anyone forgot: **The character of Greg was introduced in _One Of Their Own_, and is Kathleen's best friend. He was the last to see her before she went missing.

A great shoutout for a great person, writer, and beta: **FaithHopeLove**, as always. She's behind a lot of my inspiration and continuance to write! Love ya dearly, online soul-sista!

Dedication: The Great and Powerful Oz

Disclaimer: SVU and its associated characters are not mine. The title was based on the song 'Beautiful Soul' by Jesse McCartney. I have no claim on the song, although I must say, I listen to it often.

&&&&&&&**  
Stabler Residence  
****December 10, 2003****  
-****1:42am-  
**&&&&&&&**  
**

"No, stop, get off me! Stop…Stop…please, stop, quit! I said no! Please, stop!" Kathleen yells as she thrashes about in her sleep, having nightmares of what has altered her life. Kathleen awakes abruptly, panting from her distress, hearing her own cries.

She looks over at the empty chair beside her bed where her mom fell asleep. She wonders for a moment where she could've gone, but realizes that she doesn't want her mom to see her like this. She's sweating from the fear, and disoriented from the memories. She wants to take a shower, but she knows that'll only arouse more fear, memories, and pain. And she's still surprised at how, even in her sleep, the ordeal feels so real.

She steps to her door, opening it only a crack, and sees her mom in the kitchen, with her father, sitting at the dining room table, drinking from mugs. She doesn't want to go down there, but just seeing them lets her know that the nightmare is over. Well, most of it, at least. She stops and listens for a moment.

"I don't know what to do, Elliot. I don't know what to say to her. I'm her mother. I'm supposed to make everything okay. I'm supposed to have answers for everything. And I can't. I don't how to deal with that, El. How do I deal with that?"

Her father looks sympathetic, but yet, he doesn't have an answer. "I don't know, Kath. I don't know. You think I'm an expert at this?"

"Well, Elliot, you _do _work with situations like this all the time."

"Yeah, Kathy, with other people's children. Not my own. Not from a parent perspective."

Kathy sighs, angry at the situation, and takes a sip from her mug. Elliot gets up from his seat, walks across to his wife, and hugs her from behind, putting his strong arms around her shoulders, and resting his chin on her shoulder. "We'll get through this, Kath. I know we will. It won't be easy; it won't be fast. But it'll happen. Trust me on that, okay? Say you you'll trust me."

Kathy gives a weak nod, and kisses Elliot gently. "I'll trust you," she whispers.

She can't stand listening anymore. Hearing her parents' insecurities only brings her own to life more vividly. She closes her door quietly, and flops onto her bed. She wants to talk to somebody, but nobody will understand. Nobody will listen.

As she flips her legs onto the bed, she hits her foot on her night side table, and the papers that were on it plummet silently to the ground. She curses under her breath, and begins to pick up the sea of papers. Her test results, the copy of her police statement, a letter from Greg that was delivered the day after she got home, and never opened, some social studies test she took before, and then a small piece of paper that is stiffer than the others falls out from the middle of the pile. She picks it up diligently, and stares at the words printed on it. It's Olivia's business card that she gave her in the hospital, with all her personal contacts on the back. She hesitates for only a moment before picking up her phone, and dialing Olivia's house phone number.

It rings three times before a voice answers, "Benson."

Kathleen takes a deep breath before saying anything. "Olivia, it's me, Kathleen. I know it's late, but…"

"Don't be silly," she says kindly. "Called to talk?"

Kathleen sighs a sigh of relief. "Yeah. I couldn't sleep. I hope you don't mind. I'm sorry if I woke you up or anything…"

"You're not the only with insomnia. I wasn't sleeping. Don't worry about it, okay?" she says, again kindly.

"Okay," Kathleen replies, softly. She doesn't know where to go with the conversation, and she questions her reason for calling Olivia, for a moment. It's silent for a minute, and Kathleen feels awkward. "I'm sorry. I really don't know what to say. I mean, I found your business card, and sorta called you on a whim. I really don't know…"

"Don't worry, Kathleen. I understand. Sometimes, the only way to know that people are listening is to talk to them about the small, menial things. If they listen to that, it's just about certain that they'll listen to the bigger things."

"So, you mean that you'll listen to silence?" she asks, in a voice of disbelief.

"If that's what it takes to make you see that I'm here for you."

Kathleen nods, and tucks her knees into her chest. It's silent for a moment, before Kathleen speaks again. "I looked at the results of the tests." Olivia sighs a sigh of worry before she can respond. "They were negative."

Olivia smiles to herself, and whispers, "Kathleen, that's great."

"I still have to get tested at the three and six month markers, but this is a good start, right?"

"Yeah, kiddo, it is." Olivia's a bit touched that Kathleen would share that with her, and revels in the feeling of being told something sacred.

"So…what are you doing up so late? Working on a case? Got a hot body waiting for you?"

She chuckles, and responds, "I wish. Let's go with your first guess. Working on a case."

"Mine?" Kathleen asks in a whisper.

"Yeah," she answers, honestly. "Casey needs a few things for arraignment in the morning."

Kathleen nods to herself. "Can I ask you something, Olivia?"

"You know you can."

"It's about Miss Novak. Is she a good lawyer? I mean…I mean, do you think she can win my case?" Kathleen asks timidly, afraid she will sound insulting.

Olivia recognizes the caution in Kathleen's voice. "I can't give you her win-lose average, but she's a good lawyer. You don't have anything to worry about, Kat."

"So, you think she'll win?"

"Well, everything she presents in court is the evidence that we collect. If I were you, I wouldn't worry too much about Casey. I'd worry about the detectives that were collecting her ammunition."

"But, I trust you and everyone else who works with you."

"Then, like I said, you've got nothing to worry about."

Kathleen smiles a little. "You've got an answer for everything, don't you?" she laughs.

"Well…not everything. I don't know the square root of pi," she jokes.

Kathleen laughs, and it releases some of her mounting tension. "Well, that's okay. I never really thought math was important anyway."

"That's not true. You use math all the time when you grow up."

"Are you gonna be one of adults who try to convince us impressionable kids by saying that math is important?"

"You bet," she smiles.

"Wonderful," Kathleen remarks sarcastically, and the two women let out a laugh.

It falls silent again and the lighter aura of the conversation seems to diminish. "So…this arraignment tomorrow…do I have to be there? What happens at it?"

"Well, the charges are officially brought to the court, and it's when the judge decides to give bail or not."

"You mean…you mean that he won't be in jail until the trial?" she asks worriedly.

"Well, kiddo, it can get pretty complicated. Remand can only be granted in cases of homicide, and even though Casey is bringing the counts of murder of Megan and Leo to court tomorrow, it can be difficult to have remand granted," she says, defeated.

Kathleen nods, and a single tear cascades down her cheek. "If he…if he does get out on bail, will he…will he be able to find me?" Kathleen asks worriedly and she is now fully crying. Her voice rises above her sobs. "He knows where I live, Olivia! He knows my name! He knows my parents' names! He knows everything! What if he comes after me!"

Olivia lets the emotions she was trying to hold onto, go freely, and her eyes swell with tears at the sound of the young woman's cries. "Restraining orders can be granted in cases like these. Not to mention, that your dad can have protective detail outside your house in an instant."

"I don't want a protective detail. I want to be able to walk out of my house and not worry if anyone going to kidnap me again, or worse, murder me," she says adamantly, yet softly.

Olivia sighs, not having the ability to give Kathleen any sort of comfort. "I know, kiddo. I wish I could give you that. I really do."

"Wishes aren't getting me anywhere, Liv. How do I physically get that? How do I make all those wishes reality? How do I make all of it possible?"

"Well, kiddo, have you thought about talking to a psychiatrist, or a rape crisis counselor?"

"My dad mentioned it…but, I really don't think I want to do that. I hate shrinks."

"Just like your father," she says, with a sense of lightness in her tone.

"I'm taking that as a compliment."

Olivia laughs. "As it should be."

"Talking to a shrink…does that really help?" she asks, bringing back up the subject.

Olivia remembers her session with Huang, and leans back into her consuming couch. "It can. If you let it."

Kathleen likewise leans into her luxurious pillows at the head of her bed. "Could you be anymore cryptic?"

Olivia laughs again. Despite everything, Kathleen manages to remain herself. "I meant that…well, some people are resistant toward the treatment, so it doesn't help them. But, other people let it work for them."

"And, God, Olivia, how do I get back to my friends? I'll never be like I was. Will they accept this new person…?"

"Honey, your real friends are going to be there for you, no matter what. They'll stand next to you through thick and thin. And if they don't, they were never your real friends to begin with," she says, and for a moment, Olivia feels like she's a mother giving a child advice.

"Olivia, how many 'real' friends do you think I have? It's high school! It's very rare to find a real friend that doesn't talk behind your back, or won't turn around and ditch you when things get tough."

"What about Greg? He seems like a good guy," she comments, and she feels awkward that she brought him in the conversation, for she only met him through the investigation.

Kathleen sinks further into her bed. She doesn't talk for a moment as realization hits her. She hadn't really thought about Greg, but when Olivia mentions him, Kathleen's eyes focus straight onto the letter on her night side table. She takes it into her hands gently, not opening it. She only wonders what's inside.

Kathleen nods to herself. She wants to get off the subject. "Yeah…listen, Olivia, can I ask for a favor from you?"

"Depends on what it is," Olivia propositions.

"I know Mrs. Harris is having one funeral for Megan and Officer Harris, but I don't know when. Do you think you could find out for me?" she asks, again timidly. "I really want to go."

"I think I can do that for you," Olivia answers in a whisper, sincerely.

"Thanks."

"No problem," Olivia says.

The conversation turns to a comfortable silence, and as the quiet takes on its own resonating sound, Kathleen and Olivia ease into it. Kathleen lets out a soft yawn, trying to catch it before Olivia notices. "Am I boring you?" Olivia asks, playfully. Kathleen giggles in response, as another yawn escapes. "Listen, kiddo, why don't you go get some sleep? You sound tired. Call me if you need anything, okay?" she says, sincerely. "Goodnight, Kat."

"Goodnight, Olivia."

"Kathleen?" Olivia says before she hangs up. "You're right. Math's completely useless once you get a real job." She smiles, and can hear Kathleen giggle once more.

"I knew it." Goodnights are said once again.

A click on both ends terminates the midnight phone call. After placing her phone on the table, Kathleen leans back into her consuming bed, pulling the covers over her. Her body slowly relaxes, her mind forgetting the events of the day. Her eyes close, tentatively, for she knows that the darkness of her dreams can bring back more pain. As she tries to focus on the better parts of her life, her tense body eases into the comfort of her bed. And slowly, sleep overcomes her.

&&&&&&&**  
Stabler Residence  
-****6:26am-**

Elliot quietly pads down the hallway of the upstairs as the morning sunlight fills the house. He makes stops to Liz's and Dickie's rooms, waking them up, inviting them to the breakfast he made downstairs. He gently steps to Kathleen's room, opening the door softly. He stops for only a moment, soaking in the image in front of him.

His wife lies in the chair next to his daughter's bed, and she looks so peaceful. And then his eyes fall upon his daughter. She looks somewhat peaceful, but he can tell that her dreams are troubled. He wants to help her so much. He wants to take away any pain so badly that it hurts, but it hurts more to know that he can't. Every time he sees her, it is a constant reminder that the horrors of the world won't stop for his family, and that he can't always be the protector. He decides to wake them up gently, to stay out of his own nightmares, known as his thoughts.

"Kathy," he says gently, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Kathy, honey, time to wake up." She softly awakes from her sleep, and her eyes adjust to the morning sunlight that seems to hit at a perfect angle in Kathleen's room. If it weren't for all the wrong in his life, he probably would've appreciated the light demeanor of the room, and would've been thankful for it. But, he can't focus on that; especially now.

"What time is it?" she mumbles quietly.

"A little after six." When Kathy nods, he continues, "I made breakfast already, and the twins are already down there. Why don't you go down there? I'll wake Kathleen up."

"You sure?" she says as she stretches the kinks out of her neck and back. Elliot takes notice of this before he answers.

"Your back okay? Maybe you should sleep in the bed tonight…"

"Kathleen wants to sleep in her own bed, and she wants me by her side, and I won't deny her that…"

"I wasn't saying you leave her, just…just…I wish it were different, that's all."

"Me too, but this is our life right now. We just gotta deal with it. And, trust me, any back and neck pain is worth it," she says, standing.

Elliot walks over to her, circling his arms around her waist, taking in her scent. "Plus, I miss sleeping next to you."

Kathy smiles, her forehead meeting her husband's. "I miss it, too," she says, her hand caressing Elliot's unshaven face, "but you know why I have to do this."

"I know," he sighs disappointedly, "but it's like I said. I just wish it were different."

Kathy nods, reveling in the feeling of being in her husband's arms. "So, this breakfast you were talking about…"

Elliot smiles. "Downstairs," he replies. "Eggs, toast, and sausage."

Kathy looks at him in fake disbelief. "Sausage? You know how to make sausage?"

Elliot chuckles. "It's the kind you put in the microwave."

"Ah," Kathy replies. She brushes a soft kiss across his lips, and begins to make her way out of Kathleen's room. She turns around as she remembers something. "Elliot," she starts, as Elliot turns to meet her hazel eyes, "wake her up gently. She didn't sleep well last night, and I don't want to startle her."

Elliot nods to her, and she reluctantly turns to go downstairs. He gently sits on the side of Kathleen's bed, soaking in the image of his daughter. He recognizes the bruises on her face and on the shoulder that peeks out of the blanket. They've turned to an apple green, and a soft yellow, and he brushes his knuckles against them lightly. He takes his eyes off his daughter, and they land on the phone that hangs halfway off the table.

He picks up the phone, and as he places it fully on the table, he notices a business card. His curiosity gets the best of him as he picks it up. It looks familiar, and comfort overcomes him as he realizes it is his partner's. He turns it over and sees Olivia's contacts written in her chicken-scratch. He smiles to himself, knowing that his daughter has someone extra to lean on. He realizes that with the phone and card that a midnight phone call took place. 'I'll have to remember to thank her for everything she's done for Kathleen,' Elliot thinks to himself.

He places a hand on Kathleen's shoulder and gently wakes her, just like he did with his wife. "Kathleen, sweetheart, it's time to wake up," he says, keeping his voice soft.

Kathleen jerks lightly out of her sleep. "Arrhh…" she moans.

Elliot laughs a little. "Yeah, honey, I know. It's early, but time to wake up."

"Do I have to?" she mumbles.

"Yep. Come on," he persuades.

Kathleen turns onto her back, rubbing her eyes. Her eyes finally open to the sunlight, and focus on her dad. "Good morning," she says, simply.

"Good morning," he comments with a smile. "You hungry?"

Kathleen lifts herself up, and puts her weight on her wrists. "A little."

"Breakfast's downstairs."

"Okay."

"Honey, you okay?" he says, brushing a lock of her hair out of her face.

"Yeah," she lies. "Fine."

"Honey," Elliot admonishes. "Don't lie. If something's wrong, you gotta let us know. We can help."

"Just some bad dreams, that's all."

"Okay," he replies, not fully believing her. He makes his way to the door before Kathleen stops him in a small voice.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, honey," he says expectantly.

"Daddy, I want to talk to you about something," she says, patting the place on the bed next to her. Elliot complies, sitting near her.

"You know you can tell me anything."

"I heard you talking to Olivia when we were at the station yesterday, doing the line-up."

"Yeah?" he questions, urging her to continue.

"Well, I heard you say that…well…"

"What is it, sweetheart? I promise, whatever it is, I won't be mad or anything."

"Daddy, I heard you say that…I heard you say that you wanted to kill the man that did this to me," she says in one breath.

Elliot just gently stares at her, not sure as to what to say. "Sweetheart…I-I…"

"You don't have to say anything, I just wanted to talk to you about it."

Elliot complies. "What part about it do you want to talk about?" he asks softly.

"Daddy, I don't want you to say that."

Elliot nods. "Can you tell me why?"

"Daddy, when you say that, it just makes you sound…it makes you sound…"

"What, baby?"

"Makes you sound no better than the men that did this. And that's not who you are. You're so much better than them, Dad. You can't even be compared to them…"

"Kat-"

"No, Dad. Promise me that you won't say that again."

"Honey, those men…"

"I know full well what those men did, and if you were there, I know what you would've done whatever you could to save me, perhaps even kill them, but not now. You can't do that now. You're a protector, a guider. You're not violent; you're not a murderer," she says, finally meeting her father's eyes. "I understand how mad you are, Dad, about this whole situation, but I don't need that anger. I just need my dad to hold onto me." She looks into her father's numbing glance, and turns back to her hands, placed in her lap. "I just wanted to be honest with you."

Elliot takes in his daughter's figure, and the strength she gives off. "Thank you, sweetheart," he whispers, as she looks up. He takes her into a hug, saying, "Thank you for being honest with me."

"Dad! Kathleen! You coming to breakfast or what?" yells Dickie from downstairs.

They both let out a soft laugh. "I promise, baby. I promise."

"Thank you, Daddy," she says, taking in another hug.

"Yeah, Dickie, we're coming! Give us a minute!" Elliot replied. "You want a minute to get yourself together? I'll meet you down there…" he propositions to his daughter.

"Yeah, that's fine," she smiles. Again, Elliot starts out of her room, and again, Kathleen stops him. "Daddy? Are we going to the arraignment today?"

Elliot sighs, and looks up at her. "You up for it?"

"Yeah, Daddy, I am. I really am." For the first time, she means it, and she really is ready to take the next step.

&&&&&&&**  
New York**** State**** Courthouse  
Same Day, Dec. ****10  
-7:24am-**

"Docket ending number 33452. The People verse Julio Sanchez on: one count of murder in the first degree against the minor Megan Harris, one count of murder in the second degree against Officer Leonard Harris, two counts of rape in the first degree against the minors, Mary Adams and Kathleen Stabler, and one count of kidnapping in the first degree against Kathleen Stabler," says the bailiff.

"Quite impressive, Mr. Sanchez," says Judge Petrovsky, off-handedly. "Mr. Langan, how does your client plead?"

"Not guilty, on all counts, Your Honor," he replies.

"Alright, Miss Novak, let's hear it."

"The People are requesting remand, Your Honor. Mr. Sanchez has a previous record with drugs and, quite frankly, the NYPD. He was under investigation for the murder of the deceased Officer Harris' partner, Officer Duncan about a year ago…"

"Those were mere allegations, without merit, and absolutely no solid evidence…"

"It was brought the grand jury…"

"And, with all due respect, Your Honor, all charges were dropped," Langan says, somewhat harshly.

"Duly noted, Mr. Langan," Petrovsky says with finality. "Let's move on."

"Your Honor," Casey begins, "serious allegations have been made against Mr. Sanchez, and considering his past, The People don't think that remand is completely out of the question. He may be at serious flight risk."

"Your Honor, the defendant has handed over his passport, as well as the plane tickets he purchased to Colombia three months ago…"

"And, although The People appreciate the gesture," Casey begins, snidely, "it is completely meaningless. Mr. Sanchez owns a personal jet, helicopter, yacht, as well as a residence in Bogotá, Colombia. Your Honor, you can see why handing over something as menial as a passport and plane tickets would seem useless. Considering what charges the defendant is facing and the numerous victims…"

"And might I add that Mr. Sanchez is a victim in his own way. He was harassed by Detective Benson while he awaited his legal representation…"

Jumping at the opportunity to defend a colleague, Casey replies, "Detective Benson was doing her job, and it was a mere interrogation, a police procedure that is used everyday. It cannot even be considered harassment…"

"Wait to present your cases for the grand jury, Councilors," says Petrovsky. Langan and Casey both fall silent. "Alright, Mr. Langan, I have to agree with Miss Novak. These are some serious allegations. Remand so granted until the pending trial," says Petrovsky, ending the arraignment.

Casey grabs her briefcase, trying to make an escape, but Langan catches her. "Well, Casey, this should be fun," he says, his own briefcase in hand, and a small snide smile on his face.

Casey looks at him in disgust. "Yeah," she says, sarcastically, "looks like it's going to be a real Mardi Gras." She eyes him for a moment, and then she catches a glimpse of the Stablers with Olivia. "See you in court, Langan," she says, leaving.

She walks over to the Kathy, Elliot, Maureen, Kathleen, and Olivia. She doesn't want it to seem that she's making a big entrance, and glides over quietly. Elliot sees her first, his arm around Kathleen's shoulder, taking care of the introductions. "Casey, this is my wife, Kathy. And these are my daughters: my oldest, Maureen, and, my second oldest, Kathleen. Guys, this is Miss Novak…"

"I go by Casey," she says warmly.

"Hellos" and "Nice to meet you"'s are passed around, as well as warm handshakes. "Thank you for everything, both of you," Kathy says, kindly, to Olivia and Casey.

"You can thank us when we get him in there permanently," Olivia replies, as Casey nods in agreement.

"I'm just sorry we couldn't get both men, Kathleen," says Casey, apologetically.

Kathleen feels the squeeze on her shoulder her father gives, and she gives Casey a weak smile. "You've done your job, and you've done it to the best of your ability. I'm thankful for that more than anything," she says, softly, yet with strong affirmation. Casey nods, and mirrors her smile.

Small good-byes are exchanged, and Casey wants so desperately to ask Kathleen if she'll testify, but she knows she can't push her. It's just that Kathleen gave incredible details, and she'll be a strong witness. And Kathleen seems to be reading her mind, as she and Olivia, and the Stablers walk away in different directions.

Kathleen turns around, wiggling out of her father's grasp. She motions for her family to wait. "Miss Nov…Casey," she calls out, correcting herself. Casey and Olivia both turn around expectantly, and Kathleen walks up to them with a certain sense of confidence. "Casey, I know you're wondering whether or not I'll testify, and to be truly honest, I just don't know. I want to, but seeing him today was hard enough. But I will get an answer to you; I'm just going to need some time to think. I hope you can understand…"

"No rush," she responds, looking into Kathleen's eyes that seem to carry around the pain and devastation of the world. She wants to beg her to testify. She wants this to be an easy win, and to assure Kathleen of that much. After all she's been through, she wants to give Kathleen that much; the assurance of an easy win. But, she knows she can't push her or rush her. And she knows that if she were in Kathleen's position, she'd feel the same way. Despite how much she wants to convince her otherwise, Casey looks into Kathleen's baby blues that are so much like Elliot's, and offers her understanding. She gives a small smile and says, "You're a brave girl, Kathleen. Just promise me that you'll trust your instinct; don't let the people around you get to you. You're in control now, Kathleen. Don't forget that."

Kathleen looks into Casey's eyes. She tries to let what she has told her seep into her brain. As much as she wants to believe it, she can't. As much as she wants to be in control, she won't. This man will always be with her, and, as far as Kathleen's concerned, he's always going to be behind the steering wheel of her brain – driving her down the road that her life follows; driving her down the road that could possibly lead to insanity.

Kathleen finally finds her voice – as small as it is – and looks up as Casey, finally taking a good look at the woman. "Yeah," she says, as distinctive as she can, which is only a whisper. "I won't." She forces the tears down her throat once again, and gives a final smile, as if it takes place of a "good-bye". Kathleen begins to walk away, back into the safety of her father's arms, but Olivia stops her, calling out her delicate name. She turns, facing her immortal hero.

"Here," she says, discreetly palming a small, folded-up piece of paper to her. Kathleen takes it, and opens it. She realizes what it is and gives Olivia a thankful smile. She reaches out her arms, and gives her a hug, letting any and every emotion she's felt – ever – flow into that hug.

She lets out of the hug, and walks back to her family. She ignores her family's questioning glances, and masks her sadness with a request for food. This is how it will be for awhile, Kathleen realizes. They'll never truly know how I feel. I'll have this mask on forever, she thinks, hoping it isn't true.

&&&&&&&**  
Stabler Residence  
-11:28am-**

After moments of debating, and hours of wondering, Kathleen finally picks up the letter from Greg. She holds it in her fragile fingers, and wonders how hard it could've been for Greg to write it. She spends a moment thinking of their friendship. It seems as if the letter holds a special power; her memories of her and Greg have never been this vivid.

She can see the first time they met when they were ten at summer camp. She can see their first school dance they attended together; she was his first slow-dance partner. She sees the first day of high school, and how happy she'd been when they found out they were in the majority of the classes together. She can see all the piano and singing lessons they've taken together. She can hear his laugh, taste his contagious joy, feel his intelligence, and smell his hypnotic cologne.

Kathleen opens her eyes from the memories, and opens the letter. She leans back into her consuming pillows, and holds the letter in front of her, reading it to herself.

_Dear Kathleen, _

_I'm sitting at my desk as I write this. The TV in my room is on, and the reporter is saying that you've finally been found. How you were found, in what state, and if you are alive, has yet to be discussed or revealed. _

_One thing I've noticed over the past three days of your disappearance, is that the media never discloses the real truth, or the gritty details. The stations say they do; that they only report the truth, but it's one fat lie. No one reports how you feel, if you still can feel. No one reports the pain that has been inflicted against you. No one can report the pain we've all suffered over the past three days. Those aren't stories. The truth is never a story._

_But, Kathleen, if you do receive this, I want you to know something. Since you've been gone, and those detectives showed up at my front door, I've realized something. I've realized how much I love you, and how much you mean to me. It's true what they say, I guess. You never know what you've got, until you've lost it. I never realized what a huge role you've played in my life. _

_You've always been my inspiration, my muse, my dedication, my love, my life, my saving grace, and most importantly, my friend. I'm just sorry that it took your kidnapping, your pain, and your hurt, to realize it. I hope you can forgive me for taking you for granted, and I hope you know that you've always been number one in my life: before my dad, before my unknown mother, before my extended family, before my role model teachers, before my academics, and before myself. _

_You're an incredible person, Kathleen. No – more than that. You're a goddess; an angel sent from above. You're my guardian angel, and I hope one day I can show you how much you mean to me. I hope one day I can make it up to you. Thanks for everything, Kat. You're one of a kind. Never forget that, and never forget how much you mean to me. _

_With all my love,  
With all my life,  
Your best friend,  
Greg_

A tear lands on the neat paper, and Kathleen brings the paper close to her heart, for that's exactly where the words have landed. She closes her eyes, letting the tears fall where they may, and she also realizes something. She just may love him, too. She's not sure what kind of love it may be: a friendship love, a romantic love, a platonic love, or a mere understanding of a bond they've created. Whatever it is, she's never felt it before, and, strangely, she doesn't want it to leave.

It's strange, she thinks, that the one person she couldn't trust less, is a man. But, her best friend, the one she couldn't love more, and her saving grace, her father, are also men.

She hears a light knocking at her door and takes a minute to compose herself before inviting whomever it is in. Her father peeks his head in, and sees her puffy, red eyes.

"Honey, what's wrong?" he asks with concern, before he sees the letter.

"Nothing. I just read Greg's letter," she responds, vaguely.

"Did he say anything nasty or something? Because if he did, I can go…"

"No, Daddy," she stops him, letting a giggle escape at his over-protectiveness. "He wrote something beautiful, and heartwarming. These are happy tears," she says, putting on a brave face. "Hey, Daddy, can I ask you for a favor?"

"Sure, baby."

"Olivia gave me the date of the Harrises' funeral. I really want to go, and it's in a couple days. Do you think we could go?"

"Is that what Olivia handed you today?"

"Yeah," she whispers, nodding.

"I think I can squeeze it in," he says smiling. "Only if you're up to it."

"I'm up to it," she assures.

"Well, okay then," he pauses. "Honey, I just want to let you know that you've been getting a lot of calls from your friends, and they're worrying about you. I know you're not up to talking, but is there anything you want me and your mom to tell them?"

"Tell them I'll call when the time is right," she says, looking away. "But if it's Greg, let me know. I wanna talk to him."

Elliot nods, and doesn't have a chance to respond before the phone rings. He picks up Kathleen's extension, and answers it. "Stabler residence." He pauses, and Kathleen wonders who it is. "You have got to be fucking kidding me!" he yells, and Kathleen seems taken aback. "No, Olivia, you can't be serious. How could this have happened!" He pauses again, and now she's scared. "Yeah," he says, heavily sighing. "Call me when things change."

He hangs up the phone with a heavy sigh, and looks down, not wanting to face his daughter, for he has let her down once again.

"What is it, Daddy?" she asks, timidly and cautiously.

Elliot sighs, and tries looking at his daughter. "Honey, there isn't an easy way to tell you this…"

"Just say it, Daddy. It's easier than keeping it a secret," she urges.

"Sweetheart…it's Sanchez. There was trouble trying to transport him to Riker's. He managed to escape, and they have no clue where he might be."

&&&&&&&  
A/n – dun dun dun! Well, I know that you've been waiting for this, but I want to thank you for your patience! Chapter eight will be out soon, and I won't leave you hanging with this cliffhanger for long! Promise!

Until next chapter, adios! -Jessica


	8. Like Father, Like Daughter

Title: _Beautiful Soul_  
Chapter 8

Author: SVUFanatic611

Rating: PG-13 for strong language. I'll emphasize strong again. Strong language.

A/n – I told you I wouldn't leave you hanging for too long, and I always keep my promises! No need to send me IMs, M (_LawNorderLuver01_):) And you're in luck…it's long :) Thanks to all my reviewers. Rest assured that I have read and cherished every single review, as well as the reviewer! Love you all dearly:) And, well, I'm running out of cute, creative, and endearing ways to say this, but I can't exactly leave it out. So, I'm going to just say it the ordinary, boring way. Thanks so much to my wonderful beta, _FaithHopeLove_. She keeps me straight on so many things, and I'm so blessed to have her as a friend!

It gets long when we get to the Stabler residence.

Dedication: To every single on of my reviewers who have left me encouraging words:)

Disclaimer: not mine. Good enough?

&&&&&&&&  
"I want you and your beautiful soul…" –Jesse McCartney, _Beautiful Soul_  
&&&&&&&&

**In the ****Sedan****…  
****Queens****, NY  
Same Day (Dec. 10)  
-****11:37am-**

Olivia flips her phone shut, hating the fact that she had to use it to deliver traumatic news. She flops back in the passenger seat, and Don takes a good look at her. She can tell that Don wants to talk and get her to open up, but all she wants to do is remain silent. She can't talk. She can't think. She can't keep the brave-face mask on much longer. She hated calling Elliot and telling him that Sanchez had escaped. She hated letting not only Elliot down, but Kathleen, Kathy, Maureen…every one of the Stablers. They trusted her, and she let them down.

Olivia remembers the phone call she shared with Kathleen that very-early morning. Kathleen had said that she trusted Olivia and everyone that works with her. Olivia had told her that she had nothing to worry about.

She figures that she can add Kathleen to the list of victims she's let down over the years. And she can add the promise to the list of vows she's broken. And she hates that. She hates that Elliot's daughter is on that list. She hates that she's broken another promise to a victim. She hates calling Kathleen a victim. She's beginning to think that there's nothing about this case that she actually likes.

At least before, she could take pride in and like the fact that she was helping Kathleen – that she was giving her an extra pair of shoulders that would help carry this burden. But, now, that's gone. She broke that promise. Kathleen will never trust her again, and her shoulders are now forever slumped.

"Olivia?" Don says so softly, but it echoes in the small car. He jolts her from her troubled thoughts, and brings her back in the harsh reality. But, according to Olivia, they're both harsh. Her thoughts are just as troubling as her reality, and she finds that she has no escape now. Her entire self, entire life is now one dark, ominous, threatening shadow that refuses to go away.

"Hmm?" she mumbles as a response.

"Liv, we'll find him. We will. Trust me on this."

"Yeah, well, Don, I told Kathleen she could trust me. I told her she didn't have one Goddamn thing to worry about, and now look where we are. So, excuse me if I'm a little skeptical on promises and trust right now," she responds, harshly. She doesn't want to talk. She doesn't want for this conversation to go any further. And for a moment, she feels as if she's a petulant teenage who's pissed about a bad day she's had, and takes it out on her father who wants so much to help and protect her. But, sooner or later, that teenage girl is going to blow, letting her anger, hate, rage, resentment, and confusion splatter over everyone.

"Listen, Olivia…"

"How does this happen, Don? Tell me where we went wrong in this case…"

"We didn't do anything wrong…"

"No! No, don't give me that shit! Don't pull that line on me, Don! If we didn't do anything wrong, then why the hell is Sanchez out! If we didn't do anything wrong, then why the hell is our victim scared out of her mind right now? If we didn't do anything wrong…"

"Olivia…" Cragen starts sincerely, trying to get her to calm down.

"No!" Olivia yells, refusing to be interrupted. "Tell me, Don, if we didn't do anything wrong, then why the hell did I just have to call my partner, and tell him that his daughter's rapist is now free as a bird, when Kathleen, the only true victim out of this, is too damn scared to leave her house like it's a damn prison! I wanna know, Don! I wanna know where things went wrong! Tell me, Don!"

"Olivia," he begins tentatively, "look, this isn't easy. Nobody expects it to be. Things go wrong, shit happens, and now we gotta pull it together and fix it. That's our job; that's just what we gotta do, no matter how hard it is, or how much we hate it," he says diplomatically. He knows it doesn't offer her solace in any way, but the right words just don't seem to come to mind, let alone to his lips.

"This isn't how it's supposed to be, Don."

"You're tellin' me."

"How does it happen, Don?" she begins. Her body sags against the seat, sinking as low as it can without looking completely lifeless. Her voice is eerily low and calm, as if it hurts to speak; as if it burns to get it out. Her voice sounds like rough sandpaper against her throat, and it's emotionless and full of conflicting feelings all at the same time. It sounds as if, after her blow-up and her screaming, she's been sedated, and she's coming down off her adrenaline rush. "How does one man escape so many prison guards, and other inmates, and manage to get away? How is it possible? How can it happen?"

"I'm not entirely sure, Liv. Power, money, fear…they all can do weird stuff to people," he begins, but Olivia quietly scoffs at the idea. She knows this. She knows the effects that that stuff can have on people, but it doesn't help answer her question. "Look, Olivia, he probably made friends. He probably paid people off. Who knows? Maybe he paid off guards, or maybe he had some people distract the guards while he ran. I'm not so sure, Olivia," Don says, sounding so defeated. He hates it just as much as anybody when things like this happen and there's no rational reason as to why.

"Great," Olivia laughs humorlessly. "That's a great excuse I can bring to Elliot and his family. 'He escaped because he's loaded with cash, and he's got a good intimidating interrogation face.' He'll love that one."

Before Don has a chance to respond, Olivia's cell phone rings, and picks up with, "Benson."

"Liv, it's John. Listen, where are you guys right now?"

Olivia realizes that she actually has no clue where they are, because for the last ten minutes, road signs haven't been on her list of priorities. She takes a look around the road they're traveling, and responds with, "We're right in the heart of Queens. Why? You guys having any luck?"

"No, but we think you might. Ever since Sanchez escaped, the media is back with its frenzy. His picture has been everywhere and on every station. We picked up a pretty reliable tip. It says that he was spotted at this warehouse that's about twenty minutes from Elliot's house. We'd go, but we're in Manhattan. You guys are closer…go check it out. Here's the address," he says, rattling off a number, street name, and vague directions.

She hangs up, updating Cragen, and they're silent all the way there. It reminds Olivia of the numerous car rides she spent with Munch during the search for Kathleen. It didn't bring comfort then, and it sure as hell doesn't bring comfort now.

&&&&&&&&  
**Zelman Warehouses  
Storage Unit #321  
Queens, NY  
-11:52am-**

"Well, glad to see they cleaned up for us," says Olivia, as they pull up to a somewhat run-down warehouse. Cragen parks the car, and they both make their way to the main entrance. They make it inside, and Olivia and Don approach a perky blonde receptionist.

"Hi, my name's Tricia. How may I help you two today?" she says with a toothy smile.

"Hi," Olivia says, feigning a smile. "My name's Detective Benson, and this is Captain Cragen, and we're with Manhattan Special Victims Unit." Olivia and Don both flash their badges. She realizes that they're like keys that can open any door, or fast-passes that can get her through any line at a ride. As soon as somebody sees her with it, they split like the Red Sea, letting her get through.

The blonde's smile fades lightly. "Are you the ones I talk to about the tip I sent it to the phone lines?"

Olivia and Don share a glance. "So, you were the one who called in the sighting of Julio Sanchez?" For good measure, she pulls out the photo of Sanchez, and places it in front of the blonde.

"Yeah, I am," she says, taking a shaky breath. "He came in about fifty minutes ago, saying he needed to purchase a storage unit. He said if anybody asked to tell them he wasn't here. Listen, I have a daughter, and I've been watching the news, Detective. I know he kidnapped that detective's daughter, and I know that he was just arraigned. I thought maybe that he had gotten out on bail, but when the news came on in the employee's lounge, I knew he had escaped."

"Listen, Tricia, I appreciate your honesty and all you've done, but we're going to need to talk to your manager," Cragen says.

"No, I understand. Let me get him," she says, excusing herself.

"Wha'd'ya think the chances are that he's still here?" Olivia asks Don quickly before Tricia comes back.

"Let's just keep our fingers crossed," he replies, just as fast. But Olivia knows crossing her fingers won't do anything. Luck has nothing to do with it. If Sanchez isn't here, then crossing two fingers together won't solve anything. It won't bring him back to where she wants him, and it doesn't give Kathleen any source of comfort. Luck has never been a friend of Olivia's.

"Hello, Detective, Captain," says a middle-aged man, as he shakes both of their hands.

"This is my manager, Arthur Douglas," says Tricia, coming from behind.

"Mr. Douglas, very nice to meet you. Do you think we could have a minute?"

"Of course. My office is just this way."

"I hope you find him," Tricia says, before she's back at work.

"Thanks for all your help, Tricia," Olivia says sincerely before she follows Don and Mr. Douglas to his office. They finally reach the end of the hallway, when Olivia and Don enter the small office, with a window that overlooks all the storage units. They don't make themselves comfortable or sit down, for they know this won't last long. Whether he's here, or he's not.

"Is there any way I can make this easier for you guys? Is there anything I can get you?" asks Mr. Douglas.

"Did you see Sanchez at all when he came in?" asks Don, placing his hands on the back of a chair that sits in front of him.

"I did more than that. I talked to him and personally showed him to his storage unit. I like to take care of all our new costumers."

"Wait a minute. You saw him, and you didn't call the NYPD?" accuses Olivia.

"I don't watch the news all that often, Detective," he replies, getting defensive. "I've been working overtime here every night for the past week, and by the time I go home, I go to bed. I didn't even know he was wanted, let alone that he had kidnapped that cop's daughter."

"Then how'd you know he had kidnapped a cop's daughter?" Olivia asks, with a voice that reveals the fact that she's just found a piece of the puzzle, or unveiled a clue to the case. Mr. Douglas doesn't respond, and it seems as if he's been caught in a lie. Olivia's anger boils over. "Listen, Arthur, if I find that you've covered up his presence here, or if you've helped this son of a bitch in any way, shape, or form, I will personally arrest you and charge you with obstruction of justice, harboring a fugitive, and accessory after the fact…"

"No…no, that's not how it is!" Mr. Douglas says, trying to recover. "It's Tricia. She came and got me when she called the phone lines. She said that if officers stopped by, they might want to talk to me. I asked what she meant, and that's when she told me the story about that girl…what's her name…Katherine?"

Olivia takes a deep breath, not even bothering to correct him. "If I find you're lying…"

"I'm not lying!"

"Just tell us if you saw him leave," interrupts Cragen.

"He said that he had some boxes at his house he wanted to bring here, and that he'd come back as soon as he got them. He thanked me when I gave him the key, and he said that I didn't need to wait around for him when he got back. He knew which storage unit it was and that he could find it on his own."

"So, you never saw him leave?"

"No, I never saw him leave."

Olivia heavily sighs, hating him, this case, and Sanchez. "Okay, we need to know which storage unit is his, and we need you to open it for us," she requests.

"I'm sorry, Detective, I can't do that for you. It's against our privacy policy. And I can't let you in his storage unit without a search warrant…"

"You have got to be kidding me!" yelled Olivia.

"Just…" Cragen says, calming Olivia down with his tone of voice, "get Novak on the phone. Tell her to cash in the biggest favor she's got," he says discreetly to Olivia.

Olivia gives Mr. Douglas a look that tells him to go to hell, and pulls out her cell phone, dialing Casey's number.

"I'm sorry, I really am, but you got to realize that I'm just following the rules…" Mr. Douglas says.

"No, we understand…"

"Speak for yourself," Olivia interrupts, holding the cell phone to her ear.

"We just have to call our ADA. She should be able to help us out with this," Cragen explains. "You got her yet, Liv?" Cragen asks, turning toward her. She turns around, facing the desk, and the window in the room, and flips her phone shut.

"No. I think she might be in court," Olivia mumbles, stuffing her phone back in her pocket. She lifts her head, and peers out the window, looking out to all the storage units. "But I really don't think we need her," she says in a whisper, keeping her gaze with what's outside.

"What are you talking about, Olivia?" Don asks, now looking out the window, and finally locking eyes with what Olivia sees.

It's Sanchez, wandering around the many aisles of the storage unit maze. He seems lost, as if he's trying to find his unit, but he doesn't notice Olivia and Don.

"Now I know we don't need a search warrant for that," remarks Olivia.

Cragen nods, and they're off. They run out of the office like bats out of hell, and run to the open lot of storage units. They remember the aisle number, and run towards it. They split up, each taking an open side of the aisle, trying to corner him. They both position their guns, and sneak up unto the aisle.

"Julio Sanchez! NYPD! Do not move!" Cragen yells, rounding his corner. Olivia rounds her corner as well, positioning her weapon, closing in on Sanchez.

Sanchez finds himself cornered on both sides of the aisle, and drops the papers and keys to the storage unit. He wants to run, but he's not sure as to where to go. He can't go left, he can't go right. He can't go back, he can't go forward. He can't go down…but, maybe up. Just maybe he can go up, he thinks.

"NYPD! Assume the position, Sanchez!" Olivia yells, her gun still pointed at Sanchez. She and Don both inch forward to Sanchez, taking small steps, keeping their weapons up. Sanchez looks from side to side, and his eyes fall upon a ladder that leads to the roof of the connecting storage units.

He dashes up the ladder, with Olivia hot on his heels. She tentatively puts away her piece, and tears up the ladder after him. Don stays on the ground, ready to catch him if he decides to come back down. Sanchez hits the leveled roof on the top of the units, and runs off toward the end. Olivia chases him, her sweating palm on her Glock.

Then suddenly Sanchez comes to an abrupt stop, turning around to face Olivia. With a swift motion, he pulls out the gun at his waist, poising it straight at Olivia. She's just as fast on the uptake, and has hers positioned as well.

"Listen to me, you little bitch," Sanchez says, and his voice makes Olivia's stomach churn. He steps a little closer to her, but she doesn't budge. "If you think that I'm going back there, you are sadly mistaken."

"I think you are the one that is sadly mistaken, Sanchez," Olivia says, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from vomiting. "If you think that I'm not letting you go back, then you are more twisted than I thought you were."

Sanchez takes small steps closer as he talks to Olivia, his gun still pointed into her heart. "What? Wouldn't want to let that little girl down, would we?" he says, snidely. "I do have to admit, Detective, she was one of the sweetest, and the way she fought back had me going even more…"

"Don't take one more step, Sanchez!" Olivia yells out, her firm voice a little shaky.

"What are you going to do? Shoot me?"

"Don't think I won't, Sanchez. I'm not afraid of scum like you."

"That's where you're wrong, Detective. You should be very afraid of me. You should be shaking in those boots of yours. God knows she was that night. That girl was so scared of me. You should take a few lessons from her. The way she begged for her mom and dad had me going…"

"Drop your weapon, Sanchez!" Olivia yells. She can't stand listening to him about the night he raped Kathleen. She feels as if she's still that rookie; becoming queasy at the sight of gruesome crime scenes, and vivid statements of human violence.

"Make me!" he retorts. His grip on the trigger tightens, and Olivia knows he's going to pull it. She fires her weapon, and the time it takes for her bullet to reach him seems like an eternity. It hits his shoulder, taking him down. Olivia regrets a little the fact that it didn't hit him somewhere more vital, and wasn't fatal. She puts away her weapon, and runs over to him. She takes his as well, and then slaps handcuffs on him.

"Sanchez, you sick son of bitch, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used…" Olivia says. She's not too concerned with his gunshot wound; it wasn't fatal, and she knows it's under control. She finishes reading him his rights, and then she hears the footsteps of her captain behind her. He's already called backup, and it only seems like moments before Sanchez is taken away, and placed in a squad car, being transported back to Riker's.

Olivia makes her way down the stairs, ignoring Don, and going back to the aisle where they first caught Sanchez. His papers and the key to his storage unit are still where he dropped them. She walks over to the fallen items, slowly kneeling to retrieve them. She holds the key in her hand, running her fingers over the hard metal. The numbers '321' are written on the attached keychain, indicating which unit is his.

She figures she doesn't need a search warrant to see it now, and even if she does, she doesn't care. She finds the aisle and the certain unit. She stands in front of it for only a moment, before sliding the key into the lock and opening the door. She lets the heavy door creak open and fall into place. She stands in awe at the sight she sees.

In front of her lie whips, chains, bondage material, handcuffs, as well as another old Polaroid camera. She takes a step closer into the unit, staring at the equipment closely. Her stomach churns, and when she hears her captain's voice behind her, it doesn't do anything to settle it.

"Olivia…I'm going to need your…" he starts.

"I know the procedure, Cap," she says, turning toward him, handing him her gun. She turns back to the walls, and the both of them stand in awe.

"He was going to use these, Cap. He was going to get her, and bring her here, and finish what he started. He was going to kill her, Don…"

"You don't know that…"

"He was twenty minutes away from her Goddamn house! He wouldn't have stopped there; you know he wouldn't have. He would've hurt Liz, Dickie, Kathy, Maureen…you know damn well what he was going to do, Don!"

"The point is, Liv, that he didn't. We got here in time, and you protected them."

"That's not good enough, Don," she says, emotions so thick in her throat, that she can barely talk over a whisper. "That's not good enough. What if we hadn't been? What's going to happen next time something like this happens? We're just going to leave it up to luck?" she says, finally turning to meet his ever-growing, nonjudgmental stare.

"I don't know, Liv. We'll just have to wait until the time comes."

She smiles humorlessly, knowing that he's just giving her the custom answer. She runs her hand over the handcuffs that hang on a nail, trying to realize that they're real. That this entire case, as well as the past week, has been real.

It's silent, and she takes her hand away from the cold handcuffs. She realizes how cold it is outside, and tucks her hand back into her pocket. She walks past Don, and begins to walk back to the car. She turns around, facing his back. He senses her, and turns around as well to face her. "Let me know if the brass stops by, will ya?" she asks.

He nods. "You'll be the first call I make."

She gives a reluctant nod, and studies the ground. "Don?" she questions, sounding like a five-year-old. He looks up at her timid voice. "Do you think you can catch a ride with one of the squad cars? I really need time to think before I go to Elliot's…"

"Don't worry about me. I'm a big boy."

She gives him a soft smile. "I'm heading over there now. I'm going to call Novak, and tell her to meet me over there."

"Give her a hug for me?" he asks, referring to Kathleen.

"You bet." She turns on her heels, and heads to the car, her head hung low. Despite how easily Sanchez had gone down, she doesn't feel as if she has had a victory. If it were a real victory, Kathleen wouldn't feel used and frightened; Sanchez wouldn't have escaped in the first place; and Elliot wouldn't be so withdrawn. Win some; lose some, she thinks, as she hears the crush of her boots against the snow on the ground. Then she scoffs at herself, seeing that you lose far more than you win in this harsh world.

&&&&&&&&  
**Stabler Residence  
-1:58pm-**

Olivia pulls up to the house that still remains haunted in her dreams. It's something about this house, or the family in it, that makes Olivia question everything. It's the house and the family that make Olivia stop and realize that maybe she isn't happy with her life. Seeing Elliot's life – his wife, his kids – makes her realize that maybe she's missing out on parts of life she should be living. And it's the house and family that make Olivia realize that Sanchez was only twenty minutes away. And that makes her realize how much she let the family down. And that makes her question everything, just like what she does when she first sees the house. It's an endless circle of hard emotions, and unanswerable, inevitable questions that Olivia hates traveling around.

And of course, she has forgotten an important factor – the press and media. They're crawling all over the Stablers' lawn, yelling for interviews, conferences, and briefings, or mere statements. But, she knows Elliot won't give in. Kathleen's been through enough, and he won't make her go through the stress of the press. She admonishes herself for a moment for forgetting about them. How could she forget? They were all over this case from the moment it began. Why would they stop now? Especially since Sanchez escaped, and was recently caught.

But she can't dwell on that too much, for many of them are coming to her car to beg for a statement. Before she gets out of the car, she looks around for Casey. And of course, she's there, still in her own car. She doesn't want to face the press just as much as the Stablers and Olivia do. Olivia gets out of her car, dodging the questions.

"Detective, why are you at Detective Stabler's house right now?" "As Detective Stabler's partner, is this case more personal or are you treating this like any other case?" "Are you here to discuss the capture of Julio Sanchez?" "Could you comment on the escape and capture of Julio Sanchez?" "How is the victim, Kathleen Stabler, holding up? Do you know if she plans to testify?"

The questions just never seem to end. But, she does have to admit that she hasn't given in. She doesn't answer a single one, or reply to any comment. She can't. She doesn't have the heart. Not to mention, that she has never outed a rape victim. She's learned that a victim will tell when she is ready. She can't push Kathleen anymore than she already has. On top of everything, the press's presence here makes her wish more that it was just another case; that this wasn't a high-profile investigation. There are plenty of reasons why she wishes this wasn't Elliot's daughter, but she absolutely hates dealing with the press.

Casey seems to have perfect timing. As Olivia walks up to the Stablers' front door, she walks past Casey's car door. As soon as she glides by, Casey's right by her side, walking with her, dodging even more questions.

"ADA Novak, do you know if Kathleen Stabler will testify?" "Have you decided whether or not Kathleen will need to be called as a witness?" "Are you expecting Kathleen Stabler to testify?" "Has the victim discussed anything with you so far on her willingness to cooperate with the trial?"

And just like Olivia, Casey lets the questions slide off of her. She doesn't respond and walks in step with Olivia to the Stablers' front door. They reach it, ringing the doorbell, and while waiting, Olivia says discreetly to Casey, "How long were you there for?"

"Only a few minutes. I didn't want to go in without you."

Olivia nods. "Do they know that Sanchez was caught?"

"Probably," Casey shrugs. "It's been all over the news. I'm gonna guess they don't know details."

Olivia nods again, her eyes facing down. They're still waiting at the door, and no one has answered the doorbell. Olivia knocks on the door saying, "Guys, it's Liv and Casey. Please open up."

It's only a second before the door opens a crack, and Liz's big, innocent eyes come into view through the small crevice, as if she's nervous to answer the door. Olivia bends down to her eye level.

"Hey kiddo. I know there's a bunch of cameras and everything out here, but it's just me and Casey that are going to come in. I promise."

Liz gives a small nod before opening it a little more, and Elliot catches up to the door to see them in. He's dressed casually, in jeans and a shirt, with his bare feet padding against the floor.

"Hey guys," he greets, with a semi-smile. Yet, a look of curiosity covers his face. Olivia knows he wants to hear all the details about the capture, but she won't give him any until she's had a chance to tell Kathleen.

"Lizzie, sweetie, why don't you go upstairs and tell Kathleen that Olivia and Casey are here, okay?" Elliot requests kindly of his daughter. She seems hesitant to go, and hangs back, looking at Olivia. Elliot kneels down to her level. "Honey, you okay?"

Liz just seems to stare blankly at her father, and her eyes roam to Olivia. They're filled with innocence, and a certain inquisitive nature; like she's yearning to ask her a question, but just can't seem to get it out. She walks over to Olivia, stepping in front of her with a sense of confidence. As if by instinct, Olivia kneels down to her level, much like Elliot did, and waits for the child to speak.

"Olivia?" she asks, timidly, seemingly asking permission to talk. Olivia places her hands on Liz's shoulders, and gives the child a reassuring look, urging her to continue. "You caught him, right? It's really true? Those reporter people outside aren't lying this time, are they?"

Olivia gives Liz a sentimental look, and she catches a glimpse of Kathy coming into the living room from the kitchen. "No, honey, they're not lying this time. I really caught him."

Liz moves closer into Olivia's embrace, circling her arms around Olivia's neck. Olivia tightens her grip on Liz a little, and lets her move in closer. "He's not going to come back to us, is he? I mean, he won't hurt Kathleen again, or me, or Dickie, or Maureen? And he won't hurt Mom and Dad?"

Olivia holds back the tears in her eyes. "No, sweetheart, he won't. I promise. He's in prison, and I know that because I watched the guards put him in his cell and lock it."

"Really? I mean, you're not just saying that so I'll feel better? And you're not just saying that to get rid of me or my questions?"

"Honey, do you remember a couple days ago, before Kathleen came home, and you came to the station?" Liz nods in affirmation. "Do you remember what I said to your brother? I told him that I would never lie to him or to you, Liz, and I promise that I won't start now. You've been through something that's tough on you and your entire family. I think you're entitled to ask a few questions every now and then, and I certainly won't take that away from you. And I would never want to get rid of you, Liz."

Liz looks into her father's partner's mocha eyes, and takes her into a hug. Olivia openly accepts it, reveling in the feeling of having a child in her arms. Pulling away from the hug, Liz smiles. "Thanks, Olivia," she whispers.

"Anytime, Liz," Olivia replies with a smile just as big.

"I'll go tell Kat you're here now," she says, still smiling. "I'm sure she'll be down in a minute."

"Thanks, kiddo."

Liz moves hurriedly up the stairs, calling after her sister.

Olivia stands, placing her right next to Casey, and she sees Kathy leaning against the door frame leading into the living room. Olivia smiles at her, and Kathy returns it, as if it thanks her for treating her daughter with such respect. But, actions aren't enough, and Kathy voices her appreciation.

"Thanks, Olivia. I know she's been dying for you to get here so she could ask you that. I guess she's just scared it's going to happen again."

Olivia nods, shoving her hands in her pockets. "I wouldn't blame her if she does."

Kathy nods and crosses her arms over her chest, falling into silence as she waits for Kathleen. Within minutes, Liz appears out of her sister's room, and comes downstairs. "She said she'll be down soon. She just wanted a minute to clean up."

By Liz's statement, everyone knows Kathleen had been crying, but nobody mentions it. "Kathy just put on some coffee. You guys want to come into the kitchen?" Elliot asks.

Olivia and Casey nod. Dickie comes into the living room, and he and Liz stay, starting a video game. The adults move into the next room, where Maureen is already sitting and drinking coffee. Olivia feels weird sitting. Like it's some sort of luxury to sit down and relax – a luxury Kathleen doesn't seem to have. And if a victim isn't given that comfort, Olivia feels as if she shouldn't either. However, she sits down out of courtesy and accepts the cup of coffee Kathy places in front of her. Her fingers trace the rim of the cup, and she watches the ripples in the liquid as she swishes it around.

Olivia doesn't discuss the capture of their daughter's rapist, and Casey doesn't discuss Kathleen testifying. And, Kathy and Elliot don't ask. It's as if they think it's rude to talk about it, when the one person that all of this is affecting isn't in the room. And that only makes Olivia wish Kathleen would come down.

It seems like an eternity, but the young Stabler is heard coming down the stairs. They hear her greet her siblings, and then she steps into the kitchen. She's dressed in jeans and an oversized Notre Dame sweatshirt. Her hair is matted, and her eyes have a red rim around them. But, despite everything, she gives her guests a small smile.

"Hi," she says, just as timidly as Liz had.

"Hey," everyone greats in unison. Kathleen sits next to Olivia, and her mother brings her a cup of hot chocolate.

"So…" Kathleen starts, breaking the ice. Kathy and Elliot take their place at the table, and Olivia takes over.

"I got him, Kat," Olivia confirms, looking into glacier-colored eyes. "We got him."

Kathleen gives a small smile to Olivia. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," smiles Olivia.

"He has no chance of getting away again?"

"Nope," Olivia says, shaking her head. "I watched the guards put him in the cell and lock the door behind him. It's a maximum security prison. There's no way he can get away."

Kathleen nods, licking her chapped lip. "Thank you, Olivia." Kathleen arms wrap around her father's partner, and Olivia completes the hug.

"You never have to thank me for something like this."

Kathleen pulls out of the hug, and wipes away her fresh tears. Her somber demeanor returns; her small smiles diminished. It's silent, and Elliot shatters it.

"Where'd you find him, Liv?" he asks. Olivia hates herself for the answer she has to give, but she'll hate herself more if she lies to him.

"He was buying a storage unit at Zelman Warehouses," she says simply. Her eyes avert to Casey, who hasn't said a word, to keep from looking into her partner's eyes. They seem to show his broken soul – the one she helped break by letting Sanchez get away.

"Zelman Warehouses?" Kathy repeats.

"Yeah, Zelman Warehouses," Elliot confirms, his voice a little louder. "The one that's twenty minutes away from our house…"

"Look, Elliot, I know you're upset. Trust me, I was just as angry. And I know you feel…"

"No, Olivia, you have no idea how I feel," Elliot says harshly, as he gets up from his seat. "You have no idea how scared I am right now. I have never been this frightened for my family, Liv."

"Elliot, you think I don't know that? _I've_ never been this scared for your family, either. And sometimes, that's all I think about. When we get 'not guilty' verdicts on cases that involve child molesters, I worry for your family, too, Elliot. And today, coming face to face with Sanchez had me scared for your family more than I already have been for the past week and a half."

The words tumble out of her mouth before she can stop them. Elliot and Kathy seem somewhat surprised at how much this case has hit Olivia, and how much she cares for their family and their children. Olivia admonishes herself. She never meant to let those words slip out of her mouth. She never expected to tell them that. She never had intentions on telling them how much she has come to love this family and their children.

Elliot's head drops as he leans against the counter. He's silent, and Olivia, as well as everyone else in the room, knows he won't say anything else.

"You're blaming yourself, aren't you?" Kathleen asks softly to Olivia.

Olivia's eyes focus on the young woman, who now seems wise beyond her years. Olivia doesn't want to admit it to her, let alone to the entire room, that she's blaming herself. But, again, she just can't get herself to lie. Before she answers, Kathleen speaks up again. "Because, I know that my dad…he gets guilt trips that last for days sometimes when something goes sour in a case. He feels as if it's all his fault." Kathleen keeps her eyes focused on Olivia, and she doesn't let them roam to her father, who knows she's telling the truth.

Olivia gives a small nod, indicating that she feels guilt for Sanchez escaping. "Who else am I going to blame?" she says in hoarse whisper. For a moment, Olivia feels as if she's talking to a grown woman, not a scared teenager. But, then again, Olivia thinks, that Kathleen's been through more than most grown women ever have, and she's handled it with more poise and grace than anyone else she's seen.

"Olivia, do you remember the other night when you came over to our house? And I apologized for what had happened between you and Dad?" Olivia remembers the conversation she had with Liz moments ago, and realizes the parallels. But, she nods. "Do you remember what you said? You said that things like this happen, and it's nobody's fault. I don't blame you, so neither should you. You can't." Kathleen keeps her gaze with Olivia. "Promise me that."

"I don't know how many promises I can keep, Kathleen. Because somewhere down the line, I'm afraid I'm going to break them. I can't live with myself if I've broken a promise to someone I care about."

"Well, you haven't broken a promise to me yet." Her voice is soft, but her meaning speaks volumes.

"I think I've broken too many of your promises."

"Which ones?" she challenges.

"There's plenty, but let's go with the one when I said that you had nothing to worry about and everything would be fine."

"Everything _is_ fine."

"No, it's not. Sanchez escaped. You worried," Olivia insists.

"You said that everything would be fine. Everything _is_ fine. You never promised me that it would be painless getting to that point, or that we wouldn't meet obstacles. So, again, you've never broken a promise to me. And I still trust you."

Olivia nods, accepting her rationalization, but she's not sure if she believes it yet. "And I hate to make this conversation harder than it already is, but I have to say something," Kathleen says, her voice a little shaky.

"Whatever you need to say, we'll listen," Olivia replies.

Kathleen takes a deep breath. "It's about testifying, Ms. Novak."

Oh God. She said Ms. Novak – not Casey. Ms. Novak means professional. Professionalism implies disassociation. Disassociation indicates that it will make it easier to say no, Olivia thinks.

"I've thought about it for the past few hours, and seeing him today at the arraignment was hard enough. I'm not going to testify, Ms. Novak. I can't."

Kathleen lets out a staggered breath, as if it took everything inside of her to say that. Casey looks at her with a sentimental glance. She's been told this before – a victim telling her she can't testify. But, this time, she doesn't know how to respond.

"Kathleen," she starts, "you have plenty of time to think about this. The trial proceedings probably won't happen until after Christmas and the New Year. You have plenty of time to get an answer to me." Casey just isn't ready to give up hope, whereas Kathleen gave it up a long time ago.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Novak, but that _is_ my answer. I can't testify. I really hope you can understand."

Casey and the rest of the room don't know what to say. Kathy and Elliot remain silent, trying to support Kathleen, yet they don't want to see her regret this later on. Maureen seems to want to hold on to her sister, and Olivia and Casey want to convince her otherwise – that she's stronger than that.

"I'm sorry if this causes problems, but it's my decision." Kathleen's firm in her approach and Olivia has to give her credit for sticking to her choice.

"And we'll respect that," Olivia completes.

"I'm going to head up to my room…that okay?" Kathleen asks.

"Yeah, honey, that's fine," Elliot replies, with a small, sad smile. Kathleen excuses herself, getting out of her chair.

"Thanks again, Olivia. And again, I'm sorry if…"

"No need to be sorry. Your choice is your choice," Olivia nods.

Kathleen leaves the kitchen, going up to her haven – her room. Everyone remains in a awkward silence, not sure how to react to what just happened.

"I'll go talk to her," says Maureen, getting up.

"Really, Maureen, we appreciate it, but Kathleen's choice is Kathleen's choice. I think her mind is made up," says Casey.

Maureen gives a small nod. "I know, but I also know she just needs someone to talk to right now, and maybe we can work things out. I'll go up." And with that, she's gone as well.

Kathy leans back in her chair. "Maybe you should talk to her, Olivia. She trusts you; she'll listen."

"As much as I want to convince her otherwise, I think she's made her decision, Kath. I really don't want her to seem as if she's being bombarded," she replies.

"She won't change her mind, and I won't make her," Elliot says, finally coming out his silence shell. Olivia looks up at him with a surprised look. Maybe she had expected Elliot to back her up. After all, he knows how much harder it can be when the victim doesn't cooperate.

"Elliot, I just don't want to see her regret this. You know just as well as I do how many victims go through this. You know that not a single person who has testified has regretted it, and there were plenty that wish that they had…"

"I don't care about that, Olivia. You don't give a damn about how Kathleen is feeling…!"

"Don't pull that crap on me, Elliot! I think everybody in this room knows how much I care about that girl! I would go to the end of the earth if it would make her feel better!"

"Really! Would you really!"

"You know I would!"

"Then stop thinking like a detective, Olivia! Stop thinking about her as a victim, and stop worrying about the case!"

"Someone has to! How Kathleen feels in the future depends on what happens now, and I don't want her to look back and regret this part of it!"

Elliot takes a frustrated breath. "I told you…when you came into the hospital that day to see Kathleen…I told you from day one that my daughter comes first! I told you that I will not push her into anything that she doesn't want to do when it comes to dealing with the case and the trial! I'm not taking that back, Olivia! I'm not going to overlook my daughter's wishes because it's going to help her case!"

"Elliot!" Kathy stops him, needing him to calm down. "We will not have another yelling match in this house between the two of you. I understand you're mad, Elliot, but yelling at Olivia isn't going to help, and it sure as hell isn't going to give Kathleen any comfort." Elliot still seems revved up for a good fight, and it looks like he could keep yelling for another hour and Olivia feels as if they're siblings who just got reprimanded by their mother.

"Olivia," Kathy starts, "why don't you go up and talk to Kathleen? I know you think this is her final decision, and maybe it is, but she trusts you, and she cares about you just as much as you care about her. She's probably thinking that she's let you down because she's not testifying. Just go make sure that she knows you're going to respect her decision."

Olivia takes a deep breath and scratches her head. She doesn't say anything, and moves up the stairs to Kathleen's room.

"And can I talk to you for a minute on the back porch?" Kathy requests of her husband. "I'm sorry to leave you, Casey, but this will only take a minute. There's more coffee over there. Help yourself."

"Take your time," Casey replies. Elliot and Kathy leave out the back door. Casey leans back into her chair, staring at the pictures that adorn the Stablers' living room and kitchen, before Liz comes into the room.

"Hi," she says kindly. "I remember you. You came and saw my dad when we were playing basketball with him that one day."

Casey gives the girl a smile. "Yeah. I remember you, too. Do you prefer Liz or Lizzie?"

"Either is fine. My dad calls me Lizzie a lot, but everyone else pretty much calls me Liz." She smiles, and sits down at the table across from her dad's colleague. "Do you prefer Ms. Novak or Casey?" she asks grinning.

"Well, tell you what. You can call me Casey."

Liz smiles, and seems happy to have the opportunity of calling an adult by their first name. "You know, Dickie is kicking my butt at that game, and I don't feel much like playing with him anymore. Do you want to play a game of cards, or something?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Well, only if you want to."

Casey flashes the girl another smile. "I'd love to."

Liz grins from ear to ear. "Lemme go get the deck." And she's off to find it. Casey plays with the rim around her cup, much like Olivia did, and wonders how the different conversations are going.

&&&&&&&&

"She hasn't changed her mind. Maybe you can get something out of her," Maureen says, coming out of her sister's room. She meets Olivia halfway down the staircase and gives her a hopeful smile. "She really will listen to you, Olivia. Just remember…well, even if she doesn't look like she's listening or paying attention…that's when her ears are open the widest. That's when she's paying the most attention."

"I'll remember that," Olivia says gratefully. They part ways, and Olivia comes to Kathleen's room. She knocks softly, and nothing is heard. She knocks again, and a small voice answers.

"I really don't feel like talking," she says, and the emotions in her throat are evident, even through a thick, wooden door.

"Please, Kathleen," she pleads. "I really want to talk to you. I promise you, I'm not here to make you change your mind." She places her hand on the cold doorknob and she knows it's open. But, the actual act of opening it would seem rude and intrusive. "Kathleen, I know the door is open, but I'm not going to come in unless you say it's okay." She pauses. "Please, Kat, can I come in?"

It's silent once again, and Olivia is about to give up and turn around, but Kathleen answers, "You can come in." Olivia walks in gently and stands in the doorway. "Thanks for respecting my space," Kathleen says, grateful for the fact that Olivia waited for her permission.

"Hey, I was a teenager once. I liked my space, and I liked it more when people respected it."

Kathleen nods and she's silent again. Olivia takes in her appearance and fragile nature. She's still dressed in her jeans and sweatshirt, but she now has a quilt that looks hand-made wrapped tight around her. She sits on the large windowsill seat of the oversized window in her room. Her head rests against the frame and she seems to stare into space out of the glass. Like she yearns to be part of the outside world, but just can't seem to break through the wall in front of her to get there.

Olivia moves forward a little and closes over the door for more privacy. She's not sure as to what to say to the girl. She wants to be the adult, and initiate the conversation, but words just don't seem to come to mind. Olivia wants to convince her that she can testify, that she's so much stronger than she thinks she is. But yet, she keeps feeling a stab in her heart when she tries to push her. Like she's a parent and she'd rather pick her up, hold her, and stroke her hair as she cries, than sit there, play the bad guy, and try to talk her into testifying so her case will be an easy win.

"I'm not like my father," Kathleen says. She doesn't look at Olivia, and her eyes remain focused on the light falling snow. She says it simply, and her voice is monotone. Her crystal eyes never meet Olivia's chocolate ones.

"I'm sorry?" Olivia questions. She doesn't understand her statement.

"I said that I'm not my father. I can't just push aside my emotions to get the job done."

"No one expects you to be your father, Kathleen. No one is holding you to that standard."

"Don't lie to me, Olivia."

"I'm not lying."

"Oh please, Olivia. This case has been about my father since day one…"

"No, Kathleen, you've got this all wrong. _You_ were the one kidnapped, not your father. _You_ were raped, not your father…"

"And you were only looking for me because _my dad_ is your partner. You were the one who took my statement because _my dad_ didn't feel comfortable with anyone else."

Olivia sighs, for Kathleen's eyes still have not met hers. She wants to convince Kathleen of otherwise, but she can't. She exhales as she sits on the edge of Kathleen's bed.

"I'm not stupid, Olivia. I realize that the only reason this case is so close to you is because my father is a colleague…"

Olivia won't stand for it anymore. "No, Kathleen, that's not why this case is close to me. It is not because of your father's position in my life."

"Yes it is, Olivia. If you didn't know my father, I'd be just another rape victim. I'd be just another woman who was hurt by a man. I'd be just another case. If you didn't know my father, this entire situation would be different."

Olivia sighs again. She sees Kathleen's point and takes it to heart. She thinks that maybe Kathleen's right. That this case wouldn't be as close to her if she didn't know Elliot.

"Maybe you're right, Kat…"

"You know I'm right."

"Look, Kathleen…maybe this case did start out with helping your father. Maybe this case caught my attention because you're my partner's daughter." Olivia pauses to see if Kathleen is listening. Olivia looks at her and realizes that she looks distant. Maureen's words come to mind, and she knows Kathleen is paying attention. "But, Kathleen, it isn't your father that has kept my attention, and this case isn't about helping your father anymore. _You_ kept my attention, Kat. This case is about helping _you_."

Kathleen's desperate eyes finally find Olivia's. Maureen was right when she'd said that Kathleen listened the best when she looked like she wasn't listening at all. Olivia decides to continue while she's got Kathleen's attention.

"You are an incredible young woman, Kathleen. You are so smart, and funny, and sweet, and loving, and caring," Olivia says, as if she's reading them off a list. She emphasizes each quality, letting Kathleen know that she means each one. Olivia gets off the bed, and kneels in front of Kathleen, holding her young hands in her own. "You have such a beautiful soul, Kat. I see it every time I look at you. Yes, you've been hurt, but you are so strong. You're stronger than so many other grown women I've come across. And I just don't want you to forget that. I don't want you to forget how strong you are."

"…Was," she corrects.

"I'm sorry?" Olivia questions again.

"It's how strong I was. Now, I'm just weak. That man took everything from me – including that strength."

"No, he didn't. If he had taken all of it, then how did you get through the line-up? Then how'd you get through the arraignment? Then how'd you get through the rape kit and the statement?"

"I only did those things because you guys wanted me to. And now I'm tired of doing what other people want. I don't want to testify, I can't testify, and I won't do it because it's expected of me."

Olivia sighs. "Alright, Kat, if that's how you feel…"

"It's how I feel," she confirms.

"Kathleen, I want you to know that I'm always here for you - no matter what. I told you yesterday at the line-up that no one would hold it against you if you chose not to testify, and I meant it. I'm still going to be here if you need to talk, and I'm always going to answer my phone if you call."

"You mean it?"

"I'd never lie to you to spare your feelings," she confirms.

Kathleen gives a small, grateful smile. "I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize about your decision. I respect it, and we'll survive," Olivia smiles assuringly.

Kathleen nods. "You going to the Harris funeral on Friday?"

"I'll try my best to make it."

Kathleen nods, looking back out the window. "Olivia?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"It's okay if you say no to this. I'll completely understand…"

"You're turning yourself down before you even ask me," Olivia chuckles.

Kathleen smiles. "I have to get a pregnancy test soon. I really don't want my parents to go with me, but I really don't want to go alone…Do you think maybe…you could…go with me?"

Olivia bends down to the girl's eye level, and cups her cheek in her hand. "Nuclear war couldn't keep me away from it. I told you I'd be here for you, Kat. And I meant it."

"Thanks," Kathleen smiles. "I guess I'll see you Friday?"

Olivia mirrors her smile. "Yeah. See you then. Call me if you need anything."

"I will."

They both linger for a moment, enjoying the newly-found comfort, and Olivia doesn't forget to convey the hug from Don.

&&&&&&&&

"Mind telling what that was all about, Elliot?" demands Kathy.

"What was what was about?" he retorts.

"You're honestly telling me that you have no idea how much of a jackass you were in there?"

"I was not…"

"Yes you were, Elliot. You went off on your tangent, and, again, you went off on your partner like she was like a two-year-old…"

"I did not do…"

"Let me finish, Elliot, because you obviously need to hear all of this. Do you realize that Olivia is the only person Kathleen truly trusts right now? It's not you, it's not me…it's Olivia. And Olivia has been there every step of the way, never denying our daughter. I think that is an act of selflessness that neither of us could live up to. She's trying to give our daughter the best advice and guidance right now, and…well, call me stupid, El…but I think we should follow it, too, and help Kathleen follow that advice."

"I stood up for my daughter, Kathy. She doesn't want to testify, and I won't make her."

"I'm not saying we make her. I'm saying that we talk with her and…"

"What? Coerce her into testifying? I won't do it. I won't let my daughter become another case…"

"Well, you're too late for that. She _is_ a case, Elliot. She's a big, high-priority, high-profile case. I don't like it anymore than you do…"

"If she doesn't want to, I won't make her," he repeats.

"Elliot, we need to start thinking about this in a long-term mind set. I don't want her to look back and regret the fact that she didn't testify. I couldn't live with myself knowing that I had the opportunity to make her future better, and I just let it pass by because I didn't want to push her…"

"That's the thing, Kathy! We shouldn't be pushing her. She's so fragile right now, and pushing her won't make things better."

"Elliot, I want you to think. We've always pushed our children to be better, to accept challenges, and to stand up for themselves. This is no different."

"Yes it is, and you know it."

"No, El, it's not. Kathleen is such a strong young woman. And doing this will give her such self-confidence, and self-respect. Pushing her to make her see how extraordinary she is isn't a bad thing, Elliot. It's not an easy thing, but easy is hardly ever the best way."

"It's not fair, Kathy."

"I agree. It's not fair at all." Kathy pauses, crossing her arms across her chest. "Listen, Elliot, I know you're mad, and angry, and upset, but yelling at your partner isn't going to help things. Yelling in general isn't going to help anything. You've got to realize that we've got two other children in this house who associate yelling with fighting. So when you yell your ass off at someone to blow off some steam, they think you're mad. And they don't come near you. We don't need that now, Elliot. We don't division in this household…"

"Well, Kath, where am I supposed to put this anger? How do I get rid of it?"

"I don't know, but you better figure out something, because I cannot have you screaming every time you get mad at this case. I can't have it when this family is strained enough. Go beat the hell out of a punching bag, or go to the gym and bench press it out, but don't keep it inside of you, and don't let it out here."

Elliot remains silent and looks at her. He sees tears pooling in her eyes, and sees how strong she's trying to be for her husband, for her children, for herself. "C'mere," Elliot says, bringing his wife into his embrace. "I'm sorry. I blew a gasket. I promise I'll work on it."

Kathy dissolves into his arms, and furiously blinks away her tears. "I know you're mad that you're daughter has become a case, and so am I, Elliot. And I understand that you don't want to play detective now. I know you want to separate this into work and home like you usually do, but you can't. Home is work, now. What happens now in this case depends on how Kathleen's going to feel in the future…" she says, in an incoherent jumble, and she sinks further into Elliot's arms.

"I know, I know," he whispers, stroking her hair. "I'm doing the best I can right now. And I'll come around. I always do…you know that. You know me better than anybody."

"I know, but you still need to hear it every now and then." She pauses, and takes in her husband's scent. She loves being in his strong arms, but she hates the reason why she's fallen into them. She picks up her head and faces her husband, but she doesn't break the embrace. "I think I know where Kathleen gets in her strength," she says, giving a sad smile through trickling tears.

"I was just about to say the same thing to you," he replies, kissing her forehead. "You keep saying she's my daughter through and through, but she's definitely got some of you in there, Kathy. Don't forget that."

Kathy smiles and cranes her neck to kiss his lips. "I won't," she whispers. "Come on. Let's go see how everyone else is doing."

&&&&&&&&

Olivia and Kathy & Elliot walk into the kitchen at a seemingly synchronized time. Kathy and Elliot enter from the back door, and Olivia rounds the corner from the stairs, and their eyes meet.

"She's sticking to her guns," Olivia says. "But she knows that we're all here for her, no matter what she decides, and there's no hard feelings."

"We're going to sit down with her tomorrow and talk things out with her, and discuss all her options," says Kathy with accomplished smile.

Olivia flashes a smile to her partner and his wife, and apologies aren't needed. Words aren't spoken and finally all sets of eyes focus on the heated card game between Casey and Liz.

"Yes! I win!" says Liz with a giggle. "Rematch?"

Casey laughs. "That's the seventh time you've beaten me! A rematch would just be cruel." Liz giggles again, and leans back into her chair with a huge smile. "And I think that it's time for me and Olivia to go."

"Okay," Liz submits. "We'll play next time, okay?"

"I'm going to hold you to it," Casey smiles. Despite the fact that she has lost a credible, reliable, and strong witness, Casey has managed to find a small bit of happiness with Elliot's child. She finally realizes a small bit how Olivia must feel with Kathleen, and she finds a soft spot for Olivia Benson now. Loving a child that isn't yours, wanting to help it so badly like a parent would, and then realizing that you can't be in that position to be a parent – those feelings are new to Casey, but they're old friends of Olivia's.

Casey gets up, putting herself by Olivia, and they say their good-byes. Their demeanor is much lighter than when they entered, and they each go separate ways with a better peace of mind. Which, after the harsh week they've all had, does wonders on their psyches.

&&&&&&&&  
A/n – well, chapter nine will be out soon! It's summer, so I'll be writing more, and I already have chapter nine outlined. So, honestly, it shouldn't be too long. I promise, and as you can tell, I always keep my promises:) You guys are great, and I love to hear what you think! Until next chapter, adios! –Jessica


	9. Contradictions

Title: _Beautiful Soul_  
Chapter 9

Author: SVUFanatic611

A/n – well, here's another chapter! I hope you enjoy this one, and it's mostly personal…not really the case. Hope you like. And, I'm back with some first person POV.

Oh yeah! Thanks to my beautiful, talented, wonderful, and amazing beta and soul sister – _FaithHopeLove_! You're so great, girl, and I wish I could write a better compliment for you – you deserve it:)

Disclaimer: not mine. Good enough?

&&&&&&&&  
**Stabler Residence  
****December 11, 2003****  
-****12:11pm-**

_Kathy Stabler's POV _

"You ready for this?" I ask, as Elliot and I sit on the couch in our living room. This feels so weird; it feels a bit surreal. This past week has felt surreal. I honestly don't think this whole thing has hit me yet. I _know_ my daughter has been raped and tortured, but I just don't realize it. I know that doesn't make any sense, but situations like these never do. I don't think they're supposed to.

When everything makes sense, it's easier to deal with; it's easier to accept when all the bricks are laid out right. But, these situations aren't supposed to be easy, and they aren't supposed to be stress-free, and you can't breeze right through them. Of course they don't make sense. And, I guess I'm trying too damn hard to sift through all of it to care, or to wish that it were easier.

"I just don't know if I can go in there, and ask her to do this," replies Elliot, his head in the palms of his hands. I know he's feeling the same way. At least he's being honest. It's ironic, actually. He hasn't talked to me this much in years, and yet, he's never been this closed off.

I've always hated contradictions, yet I know life is one big oxymoron.

"We're not forcing her to say yes, Elliot. We're putting all her options out there, and giving her best- and worst-case scenario for both. There's nothing wrong with that."

"But, we both know Kathleen is a smart girl. Don't you think she would've explored her options before she said no to Casey?"

I put a hand on his shoulder, hoping I can give him some of my strength. Yet, I'm still trying to absorb some of his. "I realize that. I really do. But, she's also a girl that gets scared, and she's a girl who lets the fear overcome her sometimes. It's the human in her. When she saw Sanchez at the arraignment, she freaked out and got scared, and now that fear has led to her to make the decision she has."

He sighs, scratching the top of his head. He flops onto the back on the couch and lets all the oxygen expel from his body. "I still don't know if I can do this. Maybe it would be best if you went up alone. She feels more comfortable around you, and maybe you can…"

"I really think we should do this together," I say. I stare into his blue eyes, and they remind me of Kathleen. They remind me of all my kids. Our kids. "We have to keep showing her that we're in this together. We have to be a united front."

He sighs deeply. It's his secret, yet obvious way of letting me know that he hates this, and would rather not do it. In that sigh, he says a million things, but has not spoken one word. In that sigh, I know that I'll be doing this alone. Not just because he doesn't want to, but because, if he goes up there, it will be one big lie.

I know he doesn't want her to testify; he knows it, Kathleen knows it, Olivia and Casey know it. Hell, I don't really want her to testify, either, but this isn't about me. It's not about him, or Casey, or Olivia. This is about Kathleen. And, even though she says she doesn't want to, I know my daughter better than that. I know that she's just scared, confused, uncertain, and not even remotely as open as she was before all this happened. But, how is she going to feel if this bastard gets away, and does it again to some other girl? Or, God forbid, he comes after her, Elliot, or any one of us, again?

"Okay," I say, calmly.

"Okay, what?"

"I'll go. I'll do it alone."

"Kathy…"

"No. If you don't feel that you can do this, then I won't make you. And, I know that you want to back her decision from the start. I know that you honestly don't want her to testify. So, if I ask you to go in there with me, that's like asking you to lie to her. We can't lie to her. I can't ask you to do that," I say, smoothly.

"It's not that I don't want to be with you. You know that, right?"

"I know…"

"It's just like what you said. I can't lie to her. I can't hurt her like that."

I nod, giving him a small, sad smile. "It's okay. Maybe it will be better one-on-one. She shouldn't feel like we're ambushing her."

"Yeah," he agrees with a sigh. His forehead finds its way back into the palms of his hands, and he looks so exhausted. I wish I could do something, but it brings me back to before. This isn't about him.

"I'll be down soon," I say, slowly standing. "You'll be here when I'm done?" I hate sounding so needy and desperate, but I need his strength in so many ways.

"Yeah," he says with a reassuring grin. "Right here."

"Okay," I say. I walk up the stairs one at a time, and knock on Kathleen's door. It's silent, and I can't hear any sound coming from her. "Kathleen, honey, can I come in?"

It's silent once more for a moment, until an almost unfamiliar voice replies, "Yeah, come in." I open the door, and my daughter sits on her bed, curled up in her sheets and blanket. Her cold, frozen eyes never meet mine, and she barely ever moves.

"Honey, can we talk for a minute?"

"About what?" she asks. Her voice is raspy, and just as cold as her eyes. It's so different from the voice that was so full of life not even two weeks ago, and it's almost unrecognizable.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Kathleen," I start. I close the door behind me, closing off my only exit, and sit on Kathleen's bed, facing her. Yet, she never makes contact. "I want to talk to you about the trial."

"You mean about me testifying?"

"Yeah…"

"I said I didn't want to. I meant that I didn't want to."

"I just think that maybe we should talk about it. You have plenty of time to think about this, kiddo. I just don't want you to rush it." I brush a piece of hair out of her face, and smooth the sloppy ponytail it's in.

"I've thought about it. I haven't _stopped_ thinking about it. You just want me to think about it until I say yes," she replies. It sounds like she's a toddler, being defiant, and making excuses for not doing whatever I asked her.

"That's not true," I say, taking her hands in mine. Her eyes are so distant, and I want nothing more than to take her in my arms and keep her away from everything. "Please don't make me out to be the bad guy here, Kathleen. Please don't. I just don't want you to regret this later on. I don't want you to go on with your life, and look back, and wish that you would've done it."

Kathleen looks at me, although I'm not really sure that she _sees_ me, and she's firm in her opinion. "I don't care if I regret this. I don't care anymore! Don't you guys get that? I just don't give a damn anymore!"

"Kathleen," I urge, running my hand over her shoulder. "I know that you're scared and confused, and I know you're angry, but you gotta remember I'm on your team, okay? Please promise me you'll remember this."

She stares at me, blinking slowly and softly. "I'm sorry, Mom. I don't know what happened. I just sorta…"

"You've got a right to be mad…"

"Not at you," she says, casting her eyes down.

"We've all got misplaced anger, honey. I don't blame you for that. I don't blame you for anything."

She looks up at me with tears starting to pool. They fall softly and silently, and she sniffles gently. "I just can't do it, Mom. Please don't make me."

"I'm not making you do anything, sweetheart. Really, I'm not. I just want to make sure you've explored all your options."

Kathleen looks away, and her eyes fixate on the snow falling outside. It's as if she wants to be one of the snowflakes. She'd be different from every other one, but yet, she'd be similar. She'd blend right in, and instead of plummeting straight down to the ground, she'd be falling slowly and weightlessly, not feeling one bit nervous. When she'd land, it wouldn't be with a thud, it wouldn't involve pain. It would be graceful and with agility. And the best part of being the snowflake: she wouldn't be in this room, in this house, and with this family. She wouldn't have to deal with this pain, and with this reality.

The phone rings, and I know Elliot will get it. I can't stop now. I can't.

"You know what Olivia told me?" I ask, trying to persuade her into the conversation again. I figure if the information comes from Olivia, the only person she trusts, then she might listen. She turns and looks at me expectantly. "She told me that there are plenty of victims that wish they had testified…"

"And what about the ones that chose to? What about them? Do they wish they never did it?"

I look down for only a moment before facing my daughter. "She said that not one regretted testifying," I whisper.

She sobs uncontrollably, and her red eyes meet mine. "I'm scared, Mom. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't even shower without thinking about him. And seeing him at the arraignment…it just made me realize that I'm not doing as well as I thought I was. And, I just can't see him again…" She sobs, looking wistfully out the window once again. "Please don't ask me to do that, Mom. Please don't ask me to face him again…" she says, before going into complete hysterics.

And then something happened. I'm no longer Kathy Stabler, I'm just Mom. I don't care about Kathleen's trial, or her testimony. I don't care about the case, and I don't care about the prosecution. My daughter falls into my arms, and I accept her. She's right. I can't make her do this. I can't. It's not fair. What was I thinking?

"Okay, okay," I soothe, running my hand over her ponytail. "Ssshh…it's okay. I won't make you. I would never make you do that." Her sobs calm down, and I rock her gently. "It's okay. You're okay."

"I love you, Mom," she says in between sniffles.

"I love you, too, honey." I kiss her head, and she holds onto me as if she's melt away if she let go.

---

I come downstairs after about an hour of holding my crying daughter, and find my husband in the same position in which I left him. His head in his palms, and his body and tense as ever. He looks up, and stares at me.

"How'd it go?" he manages to get out.

"You were right," I say, sitting next to him. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't ask her to do that."

He places his arm around my shoulders, and hugs me close. "You weren't wrong. Your heart was in the right place, Kathy."

"I should've listened to you. I can't believe I went in there, and asked her to do that."

He rubs my shoulder assuringly. "What happened?"

"She started crying. Asked me not to ask her to do that. I told you; you were right. I should've listened to you," I admit non-stop.

"What's done is done, and her decision is final. You gave it the good college try, Kath." I nod against him, and lean my head against his shoulder. "Liz and Dickie's teacher…what's her name? Mrs. Bascall?"

I laugh gently. "Mrs. Bascom."

"Right," he chuckles. "Anyway, she called while you were talking with Kathleen."

"And what'd she say?"

"She wanted to remind us of our parent-teacher conference that's tomorrow at ten."

Realization overcomes me. "Oh, God, that's right. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. She called and scheduled the conference the day…"

"What?"

"The day Kathleen was…"

"Oh," he says, kissing my head. "It's okay. We can make it."

"What about the Harris funeral? It's at 9:30. There's no way we can make both, and we promised Kathleen we'd go," I say.

He thinks for a moment, and, like always, he comes up with a plan. Ever since the day I met this man, he's had a plan. When we were unwed and I was pregnant, he had a plan. When he went to the Marines, he had a plan. When he wanted to become a cop, when we bought a house, when I got pregnant again, when we had to raise our kids when we were kids ourselves, he had a plan. It seems just recently, plans have escaped his mind. "How about we drop Kathleen off at this funeral. Olivia's going to be there, so I'll ask her to take her home after it's over. And, we'll go to the conference. Sound good?"

"Olivia won't mind?"

"I think we both know she won't."

"Sounds good," I agree. I pause for only a moment, before I ask, "What do you think she wants to talk about?"

"I don't know. What did she say to you when she called you last week?"

I shrug. "Not much. Just that she wanted to see both of us, talk to us, and go over a couple of things."

"About Lizzie or Dickie?"

"Not sure. She didn't specify, but Liz seems really withdrawn lately. Maybe she wants to talk about that now."

"Anything obvious with Dickie?"

I shake my head. "No, not that I can tell. But then again, he was never one to wear his emotions on his sleeves. You know that." He nods, with a small smile. "Just like his dad."

"So, odds are, this is about Lizzie?"

"Most likely," I say.

"Alright," he says, "we'll be there."

He brings me closer, and we enjoy our solitude and silence. Yet, it's penetrated by another ringing phone. He answers it with, "Stabler residence…Greg, hi, how are ya?" He pauses shortly. "I'm fine, thank you, Greg. You calling for Kathleen?" He pulls himself out of our embrace, and leans forward. "Yeah, she's here. Let me get her."

He pulls the phone away from his ear, and covers the mouthpiece with his hand. "Elliot, are you sure Kathleen wants to talk to anybody?"

"This one I'm sure about. Trust me." For the millionth time, I throw caution to the wind, and I trust him. I always do.

He gets up, walking the stairs one step at a time. I lean back into the couch, and tell myself not to turn on the TV. It'll only have reporters telling me about my daughter's life, my life, and our family. Instead I look out the window, watching the snow fall. I finally understand how Kathleen felt, and I find myself wanting to be a snowflake, falling gently, falling slowly.

---

_Third Person's POV_

Elliot knocks softly on his daughter's door. "I really don't want to talk, Mom."

"Honey," Elliot starts, "Greg's on the phone."

Moments later, Kathleen peeks her head out of the room, and gives a smile. "Thanks, Dad," she says, taking the phone.

"Not too long, okay?"

"Got it," she winks. She closes the door behind her, and takes a deep breath before holding the phone up to her ear.

"Hi," she says, as smoothly as possible.

"Kathleen," he replies, surprised, "hi. It's really great to hear your voice."

"Not nearly as good as it is to hear yours." She sits on her windowsill, and continues to watch the falling snow, listening to the soothing voice.

Greg sighs nervously. "This is gonna sound like a stupid question, but how're holding up?"

Kathleen laughs. "I'm hangin' in there, I guess. How are you?"

"Worried about you," is his simple answer. It touches Kathleen's heart to know that he's been this worried, and she gets butterflies in her stomach. Whether or not it's from Greg, or from the breakfast she barely ate, she's not sure.

"That means a lot…to know that you've been worrying about me."

"How can I not?"

She smiles, and pauses, as tears of joy come from her eyes. "I got your letter," she says, and it seems that all time and motion has stopped, leaving only them.

Greg nods to himself. "I meant every word."

"Thank you," she whispers, over the emotions in her throat.

"For what?" he asks softly.

"For everything. For being there for me whenever I needed you over the years. Just…for being you."

"You don't have to thank me for that."

She pauses, playing with the corner of the pillow that she holds in her lap. "Greg?"

"Yeah?"

"You mean a lot to me, too."

Greg smiles. "Thanks," he says. He's not sure what else he can say.

"You don't have to thank me for that," she says, imitating his words with a smile.

He laughs, breaking the tension, and continues with polite conversation. "We were all worried about you at school."

"Really?"

"Yeah. We got together in the gym the day before you were found, and we had a couple minutes of silence, and talked about all that you do for the school. People said a lot of nice things about you."

"Did you say anything?" she says, in a whisper. Curiosity fills her mind, and she waits patiently for an answer.

"I couldn't," comes his vague response.

"Why not? They wouldn't let you?" she asks softly.

"No, it's not that…"

"Then what was it?"

"They…they…" he stutters. He can't believe he's admitting this. "When they talked about you, they…they just sounded…"

"Sounded how?" Her curiosity is heightened now.

"They sounded like you were already dead. Some used past tense, and it sounded like a memorial service."

"Oh," Kathleen manages to get out. Just how much this affected people has now fully hit her. "Made it too real for you?" she whispers.

"Well, that," Greg starts, "and the fact that I didn't think you were dead. I just had a feeling you were out there, fighting."

Tears flow freely, and she sniffles. "I thought about you," she says. "When he was held me in that house, I used you as an escape."

"What do you mean?"

"I thought of you. I pretended I was with you…at the library, in class, at our houses. It was like I wasn't in the room with him, I was with you, my best friend."

Greg smiles. "That means a lot…to know that you care about me like that."

"It's the truth."

Greg pauses, not sure what else he can say. He's never understood dramatic pauses, or awkward silences until now, and he has to keep talking. "Hey," he says with excitement, remembering something. "We got an A on that Aztec Empire report," he offers, hoping it will give her something to be happy about.

Kathleen smiles. "That's great, Greg! I think we both needed that A in Mr. Mackenzie's class."

He laughs. "I know _you_ did."

"Hey!" she giggles. "Okay, maybe you're right."

"You know I'm right," he laughs.

And just like that, for even a split second, things are back to normal. In that world, Kathleen trusts him completely, and is that fun-loving teenager again. They're best friends, untainted by the horrors of the world around them.

---  
A/n – chapter ten will be out soon, I promise! I have intentions of finishing this within the next month or two, and I've still got plenty to cover, so expect a lot of updates! I love hearing what you think and how I'm doing. I'm open to any and all constructive criticism. Press the blue-ish and purple-ish button and drop me line. Please?


	10. Worried Sick

Title: _Beautiful Soul_  
Chapter 10

Author: SVUFanatic611

A/n – more personal, but it is an interesting chapter…one of my favorites I've written. I've also done a lot of research, and just so you know, Norman Thomas High, Edward Bleeker Junior High, and Blessed Sacrament Church are all real, so that's why I've gotten a little specific with addresses and everything. Hope you enjoy! As always, to _FaithHopeLove_. No words can describe how much her talents and abilities amaze me!

Dedication: I've decided to dedicate the rest of the chapters to a few reviewers at a time. If you're not on this chapter, keep your eyes open…there will be one with your name on it. I will have everyone's names by the end! Amethyst Fluff, aserene, Dreamer7182002, jtbwriter, Rox88, FaithHopeLove – First ones to review Beautiful Soul! Thanks so much!

Disclaimer: not mine. Good enough?

---  
**Blessed Sacrament Catholic Church  
****152 W 71st St****  
****New York****NY****  
****December 12, 2003****  
-****9:18am-**

Elliot and Kathleen get out of the car, walk up to the church together, and enter the darkened sanctuary. Kathleen clings to her father, and he wraps his arms around her shoulder. They both spot Olivia from a distance, and Elliot turns to Kathleen.

"Remember, Olivia's going to take you home. Your mom and I will be at Liz and Dickie's school for a conference if you need us. We should be home by the time Olivia drops you off, okay?"

Kathleen nods. "Okay."

They walk over to Olivia who's dressed in her formal uniform, and greet her. Olivia sincerely agrees to give Kathleen a ride, and wishes Elliot the best as he leaves.

"I love you, honey," says Elliot, kissing Kathleen on the head.

"Love you, too," she responds with sad eyes. She doesn't want to be here, yet she knows there's no place she'd rather be.

"Thanks again, Liv," Elliot says, and then he's off to meet Kathy at the conference.

"How're doing, kiddo?" Olivia asks gently.

"Alright, I guess," she admits. "I wanna be here, but it's just…"

"Uncomfortable?" Olivia offers.

"Yeah."

Olivia nods understandingly, and rubs Kathleen's shoulder with assurance. "You're going get through this. If you need anything, let me know."

"I will," Kathleen says, and she lifts her head to find Leo and Megan's family. They're standing in a line, receiving condolences from the many who have come to pay their last respects to Megan. Friends, classmates, teammates, extended family, fellow officers, city officials – they're all here. Kathleen feels so insignificant among the other people that crowd the foyer of the church, but she has to see Megan's family. She has to let them know she's here to say goodbye to Megan, and to pay her respects to a decorated cop.

"Have you talked to the family yet?" Kathleen asks.

Olivia shakes her head. "I was waiting for you. I figured you could tell me who everyone was before I went up."

Kathleen nods, and they both stand in line to see the grieving family.

"Well, the little girl with the blonde hair is Bianca," Kathleen begins. "She's Megan's little sister and she's about six. That's their mother over there; the woman with the dirty blonde hair. Her name's Deborah," Kathleen informs. Olivia nods, and accepts the information.

"What about that woman…with the brown hair?"

"That's Rena Daniels. She was Officer Harris's girlfriend. Megan loved her like a stepmom already when she moved in with her dad. And she gets along with Mrs. Harris, too. They planned the funeral together."

It pains Olivia to know that a seemingly happy family that got along, despite the blending and the mixing, has fallen victim to a violent, cruel man. Not only has a little girl lost her father, but her older sister. Not only have two women lost a man in their lives, a man that held a different importance to each individual, but they have lost a daughter, a girl full of life and love.

Before each of them notice, Kathleen and Olivia come to the front, and meet the Harris family.

Kathleen starts, standing in front of Rena Daniels. "Ms. Daniels, do you remember me? I'm…"

"Kathleen Stabler," Rena completes. "It's very nice to see you here; it means a lot to us. Megan absolutely adored you."

"I don't know about that," Kathleen blushes.

"I do," says Rena. "She talked about you all the time."

"It's certainly a pleasure to be here," Kathleen manages to get out over the lump of emotions in her throat. She feels a caring hand on her shoulder, and she's thankful for Olivia's presence.

"Thank you for everything you brought to Megan's life, Kathleen," Rena says sincerely.

"It doesn't even compare to what she brought to mine, Ms. Daniels."

Rena Daniels smiles, and takes Kathleen into a hug. Kathleen moves on to Bianca, while Olivia introduces herself to Rena.

"Hey Bianca," Kathleen smiles, kneeling down to eye level. Bianca recognizes her as Liz's sister, and greets her with sad hello.

"Liz hasn't been at cheerleading," Bianca states.

"I know," Kathleen admits with guilt. She knows Liz's not going because she's too worried about her older sister. "She's just taking a break for awhile, I guess. She'll be back though. I promise."

Bianca nods, and isn't sure as to what to say to the older young woman. But, sensing the nervousness, Kathleen continues. "You look so much like Megan, you know that?"

Bianca nods with a small smile. "Yeah. Daddy said if I was a little bit taller, we coulda been twins."

"Well, your daddy was right." Kathleen pauses, and takes Bianca's hand. "Will you make me a promise, Bianca?" Kathleen can't let Bianca become like Liz – a sister too overcome with grief for what has happened to her older sibling. Overcome to the point where said sister won't go anywhere. Even if it is something as simple as cheerleading.

Bianca nods and keeps her gaze with Kathleen. "Promise me you'll keep going to cheerleading, okay? You don't want the one day that Liz comes back to be the one day you're not there, do you?" Kathleen smiles.

"Uh-uh," Bianca shakes her head. "I promise. I'll keep going."

"Alright," Kathleen says with a smile, and opens her arms for a hug. Bianca Harris falls into the arms, and squeezes her sister's friend.

Kathleen stands up, and moves to the end of the line, which holds perhaps the most important family member: Megan's mother, Deborah Harris.

Kathleen walks up cautiously, and with great tact.

"Mrs. Harris…" Kathleen trails to get her attention.

Deborah turns around, and greets Kathleen. "Kathleen, it's very nice to see you again."

"Pleasure is all mine," Kathleen offers.

"I'm very glad you're here today, Kathleen. Meg talked about you so much."

"Megan was an amazing girl, Mrs. Harris."

"She certainly was," she says nodding. Her eyes cast down, and she can't seem to face her daughter's friend. For she, like millions of other citizens, have been watching the news. She doesn't know the complete truth – nobody truly does – but she does know that Kathleen has been through a lot. Perhaps, more than Megan did. "Kathleen, I'm not sure what to say…"

"You really don't have to say anything…"

"I mean, there's a lot I want to say to you, but I'm just not sure where to start. Would you mind…?"

"Would I mind what?" Kathleen asks softly.

"Would you mind meeting up with me and Rena after we put Meg and Leo to rest? I think my head will be clearer then."

Kathleen's frozen and she feels Olivia behind her. "Umm…sure. Yeah, that would be great."

Mrs. Harris nods, and acknowledges Olivia. "Hi, I'm Detective Olivia Benson…"

"Were you a colleague of Leo's?" she asks politely.

"No," Olivia says sincerely. "I'm the detective investigating…"

"Oh," Deborah says with realization. "Thank you so much for coming," she says with a sad smile.

Olivia nods, and Kathleen gives Mrs. Harris a hug, before they both turn around to find a seat. They hear Mrs. Harris call out to them before they get too far. They turn expectantly.

"Would you two like to sit in the family section? We'd really appreciate it," she says sincerely. It only takes a moment for both of them to agree. It's the least they can do – grant the simple wish of a family that's been to hell and back.

---  
**Edward****Bleeker****Junior High School****  
147-26 25 Dr.  
****Flushing****, NY  
-****9:54am-**

"Good morning, Detective Stabler, Mrs. Stabler," greets Mrs. Cheryl Bascom as they enter the main office. "Good to see you."

Kathy smiles. "Please, call me Kathy…"

"And I'm really not big on titles. Elliot's fine," he says, shaking her outstretched hand.

"Okay," says Mrs. Bascom with a smile. "Why don't we head to the classroom? Right this way."

Kathy and Elliot follow her, hoping that this won't be too hard, and they pray that nothing is seriously wrong with Liz. With everything else that's going on, they're not sure they can handle more. They will if they have to, they just pray it's nothing too serious.

They enter the classroom, and the artwork from the students over the years cover the walls. Tests with good grades are hung around a small bulletin board, and just like a mother should, Kathy notices both her children's names on two of the papers, although, it does seem awhile since they've been changed. Desks fill the room, while chairs fill in the remaining space behind each one. It's a small classroom and well kept. Mrs. Bascom leads the parents to two chairs which are aligned on the other side of hers, and they all take a seat.

"Well, how's she doing?" Elliot asks to start things off. Years of being a detective have taught him that pleasantries are just obstacles that stand in the way of getting to the nub of the matter. Here is no exception. He wants to know why he was called here, and what's going on with his daughter.

"She?" Mrs. Bascom questions, folding her hands in front of her, and placing them on her desk.

Kathy looks up at Mrs. Bascom. "Yes, 'she'."

"I think there's been a misunderstanding. We're not here to talk about Liz."

Elliot and Kathy share a glance. "You mean we're here for Dickie?" asks Elliot.

"Yes," replies Mrs. Bascom. "Honestly, when I called you guys a week ago, it was just because he just wasn't up to par. He wasn't performing to his best on some of his tests, and he just seemed withdrawn for the few days prior. I actually have a few of his past tests right here."

She takes out a few pieces of paper, and hands them to Elliot and Kathy. Red marks cover the pages, and low, sometimes failing grades are written at the top of the page. They share a glance once again, and they just can't seem to believe it. Mrs. Bascom continues.

"I originally thought that that was pretty normal this time of year for any of my students. They're anxious for Christmas, and they know the holiday break is coming up, so their studies tend to slip. But, since then, Dickie has just seemed to spiral downward."

"He's just gotten worse?" questions Kathy.

"I'm afraid he has, Mrs. Stabler."

Kathy nods, and her eyes still study her son's work. Realization hasn't hit her completely, and both she and her husband seem stunned.

"He's just been so withdrawn. I can't get him to answer any questions in class; he doesn't participate in class discussions anymore; his test scores seem to get lower; and he's just not paying any real attention to the material. Frankly, I'm very worried. Dickie is an intelligent boy…one of the best in the class, and this just isn't like him."

Elliot takes the papers Kathy hands him, and studies Dickie's work. "Well, what can we do to help, Mrs. Bascom?"

Mrs. Bascom sighs and sinks back into her chair a bit, as if the parents won't like the answer she's about to give. "Mr. and Mrs. Stabler, I do watch the news, and I hate to make this part of the conference, but…"

"So, you know what's been going on in regards to our other daughter, Kathleen," Kathy completes.

"Yes, ma'am," Mrs. Bascom nods. "Like I said, I hate to make this part of the conference. I know that it really is your business…"

"But what?" Elliot says. Like before, he hates pleasantries. He just wants to get to the point.

"I believe that this has taken quite a toll on Dickie. Liz and Dickie seem close, and I can only imagine how close they are to their other siblings. I just think that this has caused Dickie to face a lot of unanswered questions, and he seems genuinely worried about his sister's well-being…about all his sisters' well-being."

Mrs. Bascom meets Kathy's concerned eyes. "I think the best thing right now is to talk to him. See how he feels," says Mrs. Bascom.

"Do you think counseling is appropriate?" asks Kathy, her eyes still locked with the teacher. She knows Elliot won't like it if the answer is yes, but this isn't about him. This time, it's about Dickie.

"I'm not entirely sure. You know your son better than anyone else. Maybe after you talk with him, you'll have a better understanding of his mind frame."

Kathy and Elliot nod. "Okay," Elliot says, but he realizes that if it's hit Dickie hard, it must have taken a large toll on Lizzie. He just can't seem to get his baby girl out of his mind. "Mrs. Bascom, if you don't mind me asking, how's Lizzie doing?"

Mrs. Bascom smiles. "She seems to be doing fine. There are times where she'll seem withdrawn, or as if she's thinking about something else, but it never lasts long. She's participates in class, and her test scores haven't significantly changed."

"Define 'significantly'."

"Well, there's been a small bit of a drop, but, like I said, it's normal this time of year with the break coming up, and especially with some of the stress at home. She's still keeping her straight A's, and she's doing just fine."

Elliot and Kathy nod, digesting all the information. "I honestly think this is a bit of a blessing in disguise," comments Mrs. Bascom.

Kathy looks up. "How so?"

"You two have raised terrific children. I remember having Kathleen in this classroom, and Maureen's class was my first class when I came here. They all are great children, and they all seem really close. I think that, ultimately, Dickie is just concerned for Kathleen. Sibling rivalry stops at point, and concern and love take over."

Elliot sighs, hating the fact that this has taken such a toll on all his children. "Well, thank you for sharing your concern, Mrs. Bascom. We appreciate it," says Elliot.

"It's no trouble at all."

"We'll definitely talk to Dickie, and let you know how he is," says Kathy.

"Thank you. I'd really appreciate it." They stand, heading to the door, and Mrs. Bascom says good-bye. "Just so you guys know, I'm keeping your entire family in my thoughts and prayers. And, if you could tell Kathleen that, no matter the age, I never forget a student, and I'm definitely wishing her the best…" she trails.

Kathy smiles. "Absolutely. Thank you so much, Mrs. Bascom. We appreciate everything."

"Of course," she says nodding, and as the bell rings that seem to free the students momentarily, Kathy and Elliot walk out of the school, waiting for their own personal bell to ring that will give them the same sort of liberation – some sort of salvation.

They get into the car, and start on the long ride home.

"We have to get them into counseling, Elliot," says Kathy, turning on the heat in the car from her passenger seat.

Elliot reluctantly nods, maneuvering the car out of the parking lot. "Yeah," he sighs.

"We can't take this lightly. You know that," she says firmly.

"I do know that," he snaps.

"Then why do you seem so closed-off to this idea?"

"You know how I feel about shrinks…"

"This isn't about you, Elliot," she says monotone. "This really isn't about you."

"I know that…"

"Then what's your problem?"

"I-I…"

Oh God. He's going to close me off again. He's going to shut me out, Kathy thinks.

"What?" she gently urges.

"I just hate this! I hate the fact that now I'm on the other side of things!"

Kathy softly sighs. "I don't think any one of us like this."

Elliot pauses, taking one breath at a time. These days, that's really all he can do semi-easily – breathing. And even that causes pain and effort. "Well, how many?"

"How many what?"

"How many are we going to take to counseling? Just Dickie? Lizzie _and_ Dickie? Maybe Kathleen? And what about Maureen…?"

"Well, to be on the safe side, how about all of them. They obviously need someone to go to about this, and it doesn't have to be for a long time that they go. Maybe we can get them evaluated, and if they need to go further, they will."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Elliot, I know you're not going to like this, but…"

"But what?"

"I think we need to go, too."

"No, I'm going to a shrink. I'm fine."

"You are not fine! Can't you see that?"

Elliot sighs. "We'll see, alright. I'll see what I can do. I mean, do you know how much a good therapist is going to cost?"

"Well, Don did mention that man you worked with. I forget his name."

"George Huang."

"Yeah, him. Don said he'd do it for us." Elliot doesn't respond, hating this.

"Sure," he nods, giving in. "I'll call him when we get home and see what we can work out."

Kathy reaches over, grabbing his hand in hers, squeezing it gently. For a moment, it brings him into a small, perfect world, where his children aren't victims, and he can protect his entire family from everything.

---  
**Blessed Sacrament Catholic Church**

**-10:45am- **

The service and burial end, leaving the family to grieve for the loss that they just can't seem to accept. The people that have come to celebrate the life of Leo and Megan Harris disperse after the final prayer is said over the caskets, and they leave fresh roses, daisies, tulips, and carnations over the new graves.

Olivia agrees to stay later so Kathleen can talk to Rena and Deborah, and Olivia watches Bianca as the three stroll around the cemetery.

"Kathleen, I know this might be a tough conversation to have, but we both appreciate you taking a few minutes for us," Rena says. Her arms are crossed over her chest, and tears are still fresh in her eyes.

Deborah, a little more experienced, and having known devastation and loss more than the younger woman, has tears lingering on her eyelashes, but her pain and hurt don't show as much. "Really, we do appreciate all that you brought to Meg."

"Well, I certainly appreciate the fact that I knew Megan, and what kind of person she was. She was certainly a blessing to this world."

Rena and Deborah nod in unison to show concurrence. They share a glance. They know that what they have to say must be said before this gets too hard.

Rena kindly leads Kathleen to a bench in the garden-set cemetery, and she and Deborah take a seat on each side of her.

"What we really wanted to say, Kathleen, is that we've been watching the news lately, and we know…"

"You know what's been going on…" Kathleen completes.

"Yeah," Rena says. "And we just want to say that we've been thinking about you and praying for you. And that if you need anything, let us know."

"We're here, day or night. No matter what," Deborah adds.

Kathleen hands seem to wring around themselves all on their own, as if by instinct. She looks down at them, realizing how uncomfortable she is, and how nervous she has come to be.

"Thank you," she whispers. "It means a lot."

"You're one brave girl, Kathleen," Rena says.

Deborah offers, "You are one special person, and you bring so much happiness to everyone. Never lose that, okay? Promise me…promise us that you'll never lose that."

Kathleen begins to cry, letting each tear slip by, and she does nothing to stop them. Wiping them away will only leave room for more, and trying to swallow them will only leave them in her so she can cry more later.

But, the part that hurts most is that it's all a lie. She's not brave, she's not special. And, how can she bring happiness to others when she's barely happy herself? If she were brave, she would've said yes the second Olivia said that she'd have to testify. If she were special, she wouldn't feel so scared, and would perhaps have the courage to talk to the press. If she were happy, she wouldn't be crying.

"I promise," she manages. But, she knows that this might be the first promise in her life that she won't be able to keep.

Deborah runs her hand up and down Kathleen's back, letting the young girl cry out her pain. Rena strokes her hair, knowing that there is a point where people just can't do it anymore – they can't handle the pain, the hurt, the devastation, and the loss.

Kathleen looks at each woman before she says, "Megan was just as brave. She was just as special. I really hope you guys knew that," she says softly and sadly, before she sobs once again.

"Oh, honey, we do," says Deborah, taking Kathleen into her arms, reveling in the feeling of being a mother figure to a teenage girl again, even if that child isn't her own, and it's only for a short while.

"Thank you so much for coming out here, Kathleen. Feel free to see us anytime. We're both here for you if you need anything," Rena says, when Kathleen calms down a bit. She knows that this was a lot for Kathleen, and brought back things she'd rather forget, and now there's a time to put it to rest and move forward.

Kathleen nods, giving a sad smile, and a hug to each woman. "I'll keep that in mind."

They each go their separate ways, and after Kathleen says good-bye to Bianca, she and Olivia walk toward her car. The last thing that crosses Kathleen's mind as they leave the cemetery is the fact that they too are victims of Julio Sanchez, but she is the only one with a voice. She has to use it.

She leans her head against the window, and tears slip down her cheeks once again. Olivia places a comforting hand on her knee, and Kathleen takes Olivia's hand in her own, holding on tight.

Kathleen wipes her tears and composes herself. "Olivia? Do you think I could use your cell phone for a minute?"

Olivia doesn't question, and hands it over with a smile. "Just don't use too many of my minutes. I'm an underpaid detective and I can't afford new minutes every week," she jokes.

Kathleen smiles, and laughs softly. She takes the phone, flipping it open. "Do you have Casey's number in your phonebook?"

Olivia laughs. "You actually think I know how to work that thing? The only thing I know is that you press the green phone to send or pick-up, and the red phone to hang up."

Kathleen giggles. It reminds her of her father, who has not one clue about electronics. She glances over at Olivia, realizing what a great pair she makes with her dad. She presses a couple buttons, and finds Casey's number.

She holds it to her ear and it rings four times before he hears Casey's voicemail message. She waits for the beep before taking a deep breath and leaving a message.

"Hi Casey. This is Kathleen Stabler. I just wanted to let you know that I've decided to testify. I've been thinking a lot about this, and I'm sure about it this time. I won't change my mind in the middle of everything, don't worry. You know my house phone number if you need to reach me. Call me if we need to go over anything. Thanks. Have a good rest of the day. Bye."

She presses the red phone button and flips the phone shut, handing it back to Olivia. Their eyes meet for a second, and Olivia offers Kathleen a smile. A smile of pride, love, and support.


	11. Comfort Food

Title: _Beautiful Soul_  
Chapter 11

Author: SVUFanatic611

A/n – As always, to my wonderful beta and soul sister, _FaithHopeLove_. Honestly, I don't know where I'd be, or what I'd do without her!

Dedication: Continuing with my reviewers! C.T. Torris, SetYourMindFreee, kate, The Great and Powerful Oz (aka Buried Nox), PrincessRandom205 –Thanks so much for your reviews and taking the time to drop me a line. Love you all!

Disclaimer: not mine. Good enough?

---  
**Stabler Residence  
Same Day (Dec. 12)  
-****11:58pm-**

"Thanks for the early lunch, Liv," says Kathleen as Olivia pulls up to the Stabler house.

"No problem. Glad to see you ate a full meal," she smiles.

Kathleen returns the smile, and realizes how lucky she is to have Olivia in her life. Almost like a mother, but Kathleen knows nobody can replace the mom that has patched up scraped knees, botched self-haircuts, and broken hearts over the years. She thinks that maybe Olivia's more like a friend. But, that's still not right. She's much more than a friend. Kathleen wishes she can put a label on the relationship she and Olivia have, but she guesses that not everything can have a name slapped on it.

"Olivia? Do you think Mom and Dad are going to support me? With me testifying?"

"Well, if I ever heard a stupid question in my life, _that_ is what it would sound like," she laughs.

Kathleen laughs as well, realizing how irrational her question was. It wasn't really a question, Kathleen thinks. More like talking out loud.

"Honey, your mom and dad are behind you no matter what. You know that."

"Yeah. Just kinda scared I think."

"That's not abnormal." Olivia pauses, giving Kathleen a reassuring smile. "And plus, you always have me."

Kathleen nods, and out of the blue, she says, "I lied."

Olivia looks at the young girl sharply, and responds, "Lied about what, Kat?"

"About what I said the other day, when you came and told us that you caught Sanchez."

"You said a lot that day. What was a lie?"

"When you said how strong I was, and I denied it. When I said that the only reason I did the line-up, the arraignment, and the rape kit was because you guys wanted me to. I lied about that. I didn't do them just because you guys wanted me to. I did them on my own. I'm sorry if I made you feel responsible or anything."

"It's okay. I understand."

"Thanks for everything, Olivia."

Olivia nods, taking the recognition she's been given, but never has needed. "Let me walk you up to the door, or the press is going to be all over you."

She gives a small nod. "Thanks," she whispers.

"C'mon," Olivia says as she opens her door and walks to the other side, opening Kathleen's. She covers the young woman, dodging the press and their interminable questions, all the way up to her front door, where Kathy takes over. She thanks Olivia quickly for watching after Kathleen, and then the women go their separate ways.

Kathy closes the door behind her, taking Kathleen's coat off, and hangs it up for her. Elliot sits on the couch, and Kathleen stands in the middle of the living room, glancing at both of her parents. She takes a deep breath before she says, "I've decided to testify. I called Casey and already told her," she says monotone and expressionless.

Elliot sighs. "Kathleen, if this is your decision, then okay. But, if you feel at all pressured to do this, and are only saying yes to please people…"

"It's my decision," Kathleen says, staring into her father's matching blue eyes.

"C'mere," Kathy says, taking Kathleen into a hug. "I'm so proud of you, honey. You're so brave."

Kathleen holds onto her mother as tightly as she can, and when she breaks the embrace, her father awaits her on her other side. She falls into Elliot's arms, which have always been her salvation. At the end of each day, good or bad, young or old, Kathleen could fall into her dad's strong arms, and everything would be okay. The world would seem like a safe place, and it has always been her saving grace, her salvation.

"I'm with you two hundred percent, honey. Don't doubt that."

"Never have, never will," responds Kathleen, as she squeezes her father once more.

---  
**-****3:54pm-**

"Mom! Dad! We're home!" yells Dickie as he and his twin sister walk through the door.

"Sorry we're late. The buses' schedules were all off because of the assembly the fourth grade was having," says Liz, answering the inevitable question of their tardiness.

Kathy Stabler walks into the living room, greeting them. She's still pretty shaken about the meeting she had with Mrs. Bascom, and she feels almost as if she's betrayed her two youngest children. She was so busy taking care of Kathleen, making sure she was okay; making sure she'd make it through another day. It seems as if she let two of her children down; as if she neglected them. And now, something's wrong with one of them, and she didn't even notice.

It isn't how it's supposed to be, Kathy thinks. One child should never take precedence over another. One child shouldn't mean more than another. One shouldn't get more attention and care than another.

She shakes off the doubt and guilt, and starts preparing an afternoon snack for them. If one thing has not changed in the past twenty years, it's the afternoon snack. As soon as one child has grown out of it, another grows into it, and it's always been a favorite part of Kathy's life as a mother.

Stories of bad days, good test grades, winning goals in PE, ex-boyfriends, bad test grades, and the newest fashions that her daughters just had to have, have been revealed over milk and cookies, or crackers and juice, or sandwiches and milk. And Kathy Stabler was always there to catch them. It was the one way to find out more about her children, without them really knowing. Comfort food has always had such an effect on raising her children; always had a way of curing things. Ice cream for broken hearts and dates that would rather be forgotten. Cookies for bad grades and soccer/baseball games or dance recitals gone sour. Candy for fights concerning friends, or whenever a tough decision had to be made.

She wonders for a moment what could cure this. What can cure rape and torture? What can cure her son being literally worried sick over his sister's condition? What can cure crumbling marriages, breaking families, and mounting pain and anger? Is there a comfort food out there designed just for situations like these?

"So, how was your day?" Kathy manages to get out. Liz sits down at the table, and Dickie drags behind.

"I got the highest grade on the English test we had today," Liz says triumphantly, taking a cookie from the small tray Kathy places in front of them.

"Congratulations," Kathy replies, running a nervous hand over her daughter's blonde ponytail. "How'd you do, Dickie?"

She has asked him this on purpose. She has given him the chance to tell the truth, and the chance to lie to her all at once, all in one question. Liz takes a long slug from her milk, trying to cover up the fact that she knows exactly how Dickie did on the test, but she refuses to rat him out. She refuses to be the one that turns him in. It has never mattered that he was the only boy, and it has never crossed her mind that she should single him out for that. He is her twin, her closest sibling, and she refuses to let gender get in the way.

"Umm…" Dickie stumbles, taking another bite of a cookie. "Well, I didn't get the highest mark in the class," he says, motioning to Liz, "but I did alright."

He takes a drink, and silently thanks Liz for not saying anything by giving her a thoughtful glance. "Oh," Kathy says, making her way back to the kitchen sink, starting to run the warm water for the dishes. "And how well is 'alright'?"

Liz eats the last bit of cookie, and grabs the book she placed on the table. She gets up quickly, trying to avoid any other conversation. "Mom, I'm going to start on tonight's assignment for reading. Thanks for the snack!" she hollers as she makes a quick break for the stairs.

And, just like instinct, as if it was staged, scripted, or predetermined, Elliot comes down the stairs, scooping up Liz. "Slow down there, turbo," he says, flipping her upside down and around, as if it's a circus act. "Hey honey," he says, gathering her in his arms as a stop. Even at eleven, Liz is still Daddy's girl, and probably at thiry, she will still love being gathered up in her father's arms.

"Hi, Daddy," she giggles. "How was your day?"

Elliot makes the way down the stairs with his little Lizzie in his arms. "Well, it was alright. But I'm sure it wouldn't even compare to yours. So let me hear it," he smiles. Kathy sees him, and she knows that his children are the only thing that can make him smile in his depressive bouts. He'd go to the end of the earth and back if one of his children asked him to, and he'd give his life to make any one of them feel better.

"I got the highest mark on the English test today, and everyone chose me as captain for the kickball team at recess."

"See, I told ya," Elliot says, placing her in the kitchen chair. "Your day was much more exciting. You win."

"I always win this game, Daddy. Why do you even play anymore?" Liz giggles.

"Because I'm such a sore loser, and I can guarantee you that one day, I'm going to beat you," Elliot responds, giving his youngest an Eskimo kiss before he takes his own seat across from her. He eyes his son, his complete replica, from across the table, and gives him a smile.

"You in for a round of the game, Son?" Elliot says, taking a cookie. "How was your day? Hit me with the best you got."

"It was alright," Dickie shrugs. "Did okay on the English test, and scored a point in the kickball game."

"I thought you said that you did 'alright' on the English test. Now it's an 'okay'?" Elliot grins.

"You weren't even in the room when I said that," Dickie defends futilely, but he gives his father a small grin.

"I'm a detective, Son. You can never get anything past me," Elliot tells him.

"I think Dickie means that they're synonyms to each other," Liz defends her brother. "You know what a synonym is, right, Dad?"

"Well, thank you Ms. Vocabulary," he says. "I'm old, Lizzie, but I'm not that old to forget what a synonym is," he laughs. "And by the way, Dickie. You win. Your day was much better than mine."

"Then you must have had a pretty crappy day," Liz says. Elliot gives her a small look of warning for her language, and Liz blushes slightly, wrapping her father even more tightly around her little finger.

"You never answered my question, Dickie," Kathy brings back up, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. "How well is 'alright'?"

Liz knows she can't run like she did before, but she doesn't say a word. Dickie eyes her, knowing she won't say anything, but hoping at the same time that she'll come up with something to save him.

"Umm…I got a C," he finally admits, while Kathy sits next to Elliot.

"It _was_ a hard test, Mom. One of the hardest I've ever taken," Liz offers.

Elliot and Kathy share a glance, knowing that now is the right time. "Okay, Lizzie, we appreciate it, but we have to talk to Dickie. Why don't you start on that reading assignment, okay?" Elliot says softly.

Liz nods. "Okay," she replies, before she sulks out the room, giving her brother a glance that wishes him luck.

"So…" Dickie starts once his sister's out of earshot. "What did you want to talk about?" His hands are firmly wrapped around his glass and he refuses to meet either of his parent's eyes.

"We had a conference today with Mrs. Bascom," Kathy starts. Elliot leans back into the chair, letting Kathy work her motherly magic.

This reminds him of Olivia and the interrogation room. The good cop/bad cop routine. She handles one aspect, he handles another. One backs off while the other is doing their job, and the other steps down when it's other one's turn. Kathy handles the introductions and then he'll step in when the time is right.

It's different from the interrogation room. It's not a child molester or a rapist, it's his child. It's not his partner, it's his wife. He's not Detective Stabler, he's Daddy. But, yet, this is so similar. Just another instance that reminds him that he can't separate home and work as far from each other as he wants to.

"Oh," Dickie says. "What did she say?"

"Well," starts Kathy, crossing her arms over her chest, "she says that you've been really withdrawn lately. And she showed us some of your most recent tests."

Dickie nods, obviously embarrassed. "Sorry I didn't tell you. I thought I could bring some of the grades back up, and I guess that didn't work."

Elliot leans forward, folding his hands in front of him on the table, and looks his son in the eye. "Did you get those bad grades because you didn't understand the material?"

Dickie falls under his father's intense glare. "No," Dickie admits. "I understood everything the teacher taught."

Kathy relaxes a bit. "Then do you know why you did so poorly?"

Dickie shrugs. "Couldn't concentrate on the test, I guess."

"Then what were you concentrating on?" Elliot asks carefully and cautiously. Dickie shrugs, not providing an answer. "Dickie, please answer me."

Dickie looks down, his voice small, and his hands wringing around each other. "Kathleen, I guess."

Kathy sighs silently, and nods toward her son. "What about Kathleen?" She has to urge him just a little bit more. She has to have him open him up a little bit more; much like what she does with Elliot.

"With everything going on with her. Dad said that Kathleen was hurt pretty badly. And I can see the bruises on her. I guess I was just worried about her. Is that so bad?"

"God, no, honey," Kathy says, leaning forward toward her son. "That's not bad at all. That's very good actually because that means you care about Kathleen…"

"Of course I care about Kathleen. I mean, she's my sister."

"I know, honey."

"Is it wrong that I'm the only one worried about her?"

"You're not the only one worried about her," Elliot jumps in. "She's our child, just like you. Of course we're worried about her."

"But Liz can concentrate on tests, and she can get through her homework and her assignments. She can always pay attention in class, no matter what. Why can't I?" he asks, his voice so small.

Kathy's heart breaks right there. "People deal with things differently, Dickie. People react to different situations in their own way," comes the standard answer.

A long, awkward pause occurs, both parents unsure as to what to say, one son unsure how to feel. "Dad?" Dickie asks.

"Yeah, Son," Elliot says, leaning back into the chair.

"What exactly is rape?"

Elliot's heart stops. He knew this question would come one day. Where he would have to explain what he investigates everyday to his children. And as often as he thinks about it, and as long as he has known that this question would be coming, he has never prepared an answer. He has never thought of a response that he can give.

He leans back in his chair, and Dickie thinks that maybe he should take back his question. He can see that his dad is uneasy. He's just about to tell him to forget about answering, but Elliot responds, "Well, what do you think rape is?" Elliot eases into his answer, partly for the reason that he doesn't know where he'll go with it.

Dickie takes a deep breath, and meets his dad's eyes. "I looked it up in the dictionary and it said that it means someone forced someone else to have sex with them. Is that what happened to Kathleen? Was she raped?"

"Dickie…"

"I mean, that's what you and Olivia investigate, right? Rape? And Olivia's investigating this, so doesn't that mean Kathleen was raped?" he says, with a small voice. Elliot looks at him, and realizes how well-developed his thought process is. He realizes that even how his son thinks – just like a detective – is so much like himself. "Or is Olivia investigating because she's your partner?"

"I wish I could explain this better …"

"Dad, you can answer with a yes or no. Was Kathleen raped?"

Elliot sighs and he hates every last inch of this conversation. As hard as rape and violence are to talk to his son about, it's even harder discussing it when his daughter is the victim. "I really can't answer that, Son. It's not my question to answer. I think that's one for you to ask your sister."

"I guess I just don't get it. I mean…" He stalls, looking for the right words, when none whatsoever come to mind.

"You mean what?" Elliot urges. Kathy leans back into her chair, and leaves this part of the conversation for her husband. She's afraid if she jumps in, it'll sabotage him, or it will break his concentration.

"It's hard for me to explain."

As much as Elliot wants to get this conversation over with, he appreciates the fact that Dickie is being honest. He's not trying to hide behind this, and he wants to get it out. Elliot has to be thankful for at least that. "Just get it all out. Doesn't really matter if it's in a particular order."

Dickie looks back up at both parents. "If Kathleen_ was_ raped, then why is everyone so upset and mad? Because she had sex? You tell us all the time that we shouldn't have sex until we're older and we're ready. Is that why everyone's upset? Because Kathleen had sex?"

"Dickie, rape is much more than just sex. Just about always, rape has nothing to do with sex," Elliot leans in.

Dickie doesn't seem to comprehend, and he goes on with his next idea. "And why does she have all those bruises? I mean, you and Mom still have sex, and Mom never has bruises."

Elliot seems surprised at his son's ideas and how smart he has come to be. "Like I said, rape isn't about sex. It's about power."

Dickie looks at Elliot. "So the dictionary was wrong?"

"Son, that's the clinical definition. That's what it means in literal terms. But, when someone experiences it, it means so much more about sex."

"Right. You said that already. You said it was about power. How can that be?"

"Sex can be one of the best parts of life. Sex allows two people who mean a lot to each other to come together in a way that no one else can with one of those people. It's a very important thing, and it can mean a lot to the two people involved. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," he responds with a raspy voice.

"And you know that sex is special between those two people and it should be shared only between those two people. And you know that both people have to agree to have sex with one another…"

"So, what you mean is that it wasn't special for Kathleen?"

"Well, no, it wasn't special, but let me explain a little more. When someone rapes another person, it's because they want to feel like they're in control," Elliot says, getting up and walking toward his son. "They feel as if they can do anything they want and they don't need consent from the other person. That rapist takes something from the victim. They take away control and that makes them feel powerful."

"So, they just do it to show that they can?"

"Right," he nods. "They're not in it for the special thing sex can be."

"And so that's why they beat her up? It's just another way to prove how strong they are?"

"Yeah. You can say that."

"So, I could say that Kathleen feels powerless? That she had her right to say no to sex taken away from her, and that it hurts? Would that be right?"

"Yeah," he says over the emotions in his throat. "That would be right."

"Dad, what _did_ happen to Kathleen? Cause me and Liz were talking and we really wanna help Kathleen. But you guys tell us all the time that you can't help someone unless you know what's wrong."

"Honestly, Dickie, that means a lot to know that you and Lizzie want to help your sister. And I'm sure that means a lot to Kathleen, but I'm not sure whether or not Kathleen will tell you what happened."

He seems slightly hurt. "Well, why not? We wanna help…"

"I know you do, kiddo. But, for Kathleen, it may be a little bit embarrassing to tell you what happened. She was hurt and like you said before, she had her right to say no taken away, and I don't think that's something she wants to tell everybody."

"I'm not everybody. I'm her brother," he defends. Elliot is blown away at how smart and strong his young man has come to be. How much he loves his family and how much he'll risk to save that family, even at eleven years old, makes Elliot proud to be his father.

"I'm going to be brutally honest with you. She hasn't told myself or your mom what exactly happened."

"Oh," Dickie says, defeated. He pauses for awhile, unsure where to go or what to do. "Well, what happens now?" he says meekly.

"Why don't we call down Liz and talk about this a little more, and then maybe we can call down Kathleen. Sound good?" Kathy says.

Dickie gives both of his parents a small glance, and he sighs. "I hate this, Dad. This isn't easy at all," he admits.

Elliot sits down next to his son, looking him in the eye. He places a hand on his shoulder, saying, "And it won't get easier, Dickie, but we'll get through it. Don't doubt that."

Elliot stares at his son, wise beyond his years, and strong beyond all imagination. Dickie looks at his father. As long as he can remember, he has wanted to be no one else but his father. He has wanted to be everything his father was, do everything his dad did, talk like him, walk like him, be like him. He knows today is no exception.

But, even his idol, his superhero, his father, can't save him from what's about to happen. As he waits for his sister to come down, and another one to join them, he'll get answers. Answers that he's not sure he wants anymore.


	12. Shining Through

Title: Beautiful Soul  
_Chapter 12_

Author: SVUFanatic611

A/n – Well, I feel so bad that this has taken this long to get updated, but school has been insane! Hope you can forgive me, and trust me, the next chapter will be out soon. And, of course, thanks to _FaithHopeLove. _(beta's note: This is Faith, everyone. It's my fault that this chapter wasn't up sooner cause it took me FOREVER to edit with all that's going on! Hate me, not Jess!).

Dedication: Continuing with my promise…Wynter Nytes, Woemcat, LawNorderLuver10, traci487, Dreamy-Orion – Thanks you guys! Your reviews were great, and I take each one of them to heart!

Disclaimer: not mine. Good enough?

---  
**Stabler Residence**

"Yeah, Mom?" Liz answers as she comes down the stairs.

"Honey, we have to talk to you and your brother," Kathy responds, forcing a reassuring, small smile, trying not to let it show that she hates every bit of this conversation.

"Okay," Elizabeth agrees slowly. She sits down next to her brother, and she doesn't let it slip her mind that his eyes never stop looking down; they never meet hers. They never look up to face the reality of their harsh world. "About what?"

"Kathleen," Dickie spits out. He wants this to be over. He wants to be up in his room, playing a computer game or outside with his friends. Not here. Not at his dining room table, sitting with his family, discussing his sister who seems so irreparably damaged.

Liz realizes the small bit of harshness in his tone. She knows that tone; she's heard it before. As his twin, she knows him better than any of her other siblings. She knows that Dickie has never in his life gotten completely and utterly angry. Sure, he's gotten upset – when his team loses an important game; when his sisters say it's his turn for dishes when it's really one of theirs; when he's gotten a bad grade on a test he studied for non-stop. But his temper has never flared to its full extent. The most anger he's ever shown has been that small bit of harshness and resentment in his tone.

Liz thinks that it may be the first time in her life she'll see her brother truly angry.

"What about her?" she asks softly.

"What do you think, Liz?" Dickie snaps. He looks up at her sharply, their matching blue eyes finally meeting. "Don't you see the bruises on her? Don't you hear her crying all the time? Aren't you the least bit worried about her? Don't you stop to think about her at all? She's your sister, too, Liz! Don't you care!"

"Dickie, that's enough," Elliot interjects, and Dickie stares back at his hands. Liz is shocked to say the least. She stares at her brother, not sure what to say, what to do, how to defend herself.

"I-I…" Liz starts, on the verge of tears. She loves her sister. She's her hero in every sense of the word. How does she say that? "Dickie…I…I care about Kathleen. Why would you…what makes you think…? I don't understand why you think I don't care about her."

"You always pay attention in class. You can always concentrate. You act like nothing's wrong. That's not going to fix anything! That's not going to make anything go away…!"

"Dickie, you really need to calm down," Kathy says, looking into her son's eyes.

Dickie takes a deep breath and finds it hard to breathe normally. It's never been this way before. Breathing has never caused him this much trouble. He's never had such uncertainties about the future.

"Dickie, what's wrong?" Liz asks. She forgets for a moment that her parents are there, watching their every move. She lets herself and her brother disappear into a different world that holds only them. A world that allows them to become themselves. Because in the end, they are brother and sister and nobody knows them like each other. And although their parents love them and are willing to understand, they never fully can. They are the only ones who are allowed into this world. They are the only ones that can fully understand each other – even at the tender age of eleven.

Dickie looks up into his sister's eyes, and for a moment, he almost feels the bubble that's around them used to isolate them from the horrors of the world. Yet, he realizes the irony of it all. They escape into a secret world that shields them from the horrors, just for the mere opportunity to talk about the horrors. He hates it, but he accepts it.

"I can't concentrate on anything other than Kathleen," he almost whispers to Liz. He knows his parents can hear them, but he doesn't care. He needs to get it all out. And he knows his sister will understand.

"Why not?" she asks, shifting in her seat so she is facing him.

"I keep remembering that someone hurt her. I keep thinking that she'll never be the same because of the person that hurt her. I worry about her. She's our sister and I care about her."

"You think you're the only one?"

"I'm the only one responding like this," he counters.

"We're all responding differently."

"Well what about you?" he asks with a certain sense of accusation.

Liz takes a deep breath, ready to admit everything, ready to let her brother know that she is broken as well, and the truth is, she never stops thinking about Kathleen, either. "When I get up in the morning, before Mom or Dad comes in, I always have to check on Kathleen…you know…to make sure she's still there. That is wasn't just a dream that she came home."

Liz looks down, and she finally realizes how Dickie felt – unable to face even your own sibling because of the undeniable, damaging truth that lies between the two of them.

"And," Liz begins again, steady enough to tell her only brother everything, "when we get to school, I go to the library now, where it's quiet, and I just sort of think of Kathleen. I think of the better times, when she would laugh all the time. I keep thinking that if I think of her as a happy, loving sister like she was, in the morning…those thoughts will get me through the end of the day…until I can see her again."

Dickie faces his sister, and like always, they find something in common – the pain. And through the pain evident in their eyes, hope shines through. The hope that tomorrow will be a little better. The hope that maybe tomorrow will be less painful to breathe through.

"Can we bring down Kathleen now?" Dickie asks his parents.

They've sat back and watched, in awe, their two youngest communicate like they're the only ones in the room. And, quite frankly, they are ready to grant them what they feel they are ready for.

"Kathleen! Could you come down here please?" Kathy asks up the stairs, not moving from her seat.

The room is eerily silent as they wait for Kathleen to come down the steps. And soon enough, she appears. She's dressed in the same oversized Notre Dame sweatshirt. Elliot notices that it's even looser now around her slender build, because she's lost some weight since all this has happened – refusing to eat, refusing to sit still long enough to have a full meal. Sitting still for long periods of time allows her time to remember everything with great detail and vivid colors.

She tucks some loose golden hair behind her ear before stuffing her hands into the front pocket of her sweatshirt. "What is it?" she asks with a raspy voice. If Kathy didn't know any better, she'd think that Kathleen was getting a cold. But, she knows that Kathleen's just sick of all this.

"Do you have a minute? We all really need to talk," Kathy urges softly.

"About what? This can't be a family meeting without Maureen here." Her parents know that she's making excuses. Being in her room alone, crying seems better than sitting with her family, talking.

"We just need to talk, Kathleen. Please, sit. This is important," Elliot persuades.

And, because of his fatherly magic that has had such an effect on his daughters, she sits. She crosses her legs, and crosses her arms, trying to prove to herself and to her surrounding family that she doesn't want to be here, she doesn't want to have this conversation, and she'll stay as distant as she has to, to keep out of it.

"Kat, I think Lizzie and Dickie have some questions for you."

The twins look at each other, and then at their father. They didn't want to be put in the spotlight. They didn't want this to be one-on-one. But, deep down, they know that having it like this is better.

"Go ahead, guys. I'm sure Kathleen is listening," Elliot says to his youngest and then sends Kathleen a look, warning her not to blow them off – to listen and to know that her siblings are being honest and caring, not rude and intrusive.

Kathleen receives the message. "What is it you guys need to ask me?"

Dickie jumps at his opportunity. "What exactly happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" Kathleen asks, playing stupid and knowing deep down that she is bad at it.

"Don't act, Kathleen. You're not good at it," Liz says, shifting in her seat. "We wanna know what happened to you. We wanna help you and be there for you. But we have to know what happened. Will you tell us?"

Kathleen stares into her sister's eyes. And then she averts her eyes to her father, begging for help with a blink of an eye. He recognizes the look and he hates it. He hates that his daughter is vulnerable and hurting.

He's just about to interrupt when Dickie speaks up. "Mom and Dad told us that you didn't even tell them. So, we understand if you don't want to tell us."

Kathleen feels furious for a moment that an entire conversation went on about her and she wasn't even there. For a moment, she feels even more violated, she feels sick, and she feels tired. She's sick and tired of it all.

She doesn't talk for a long time and her gaze doesn't seem to be fixated on anything important.

"Kat, you don't have to…" Elliot starts.

"No," says Kathleen as firmly and forcibly as she can through all the emotions in her throat. "They deserve to know," she says with a certain concern.

She has wanted to avoid this. She didn't want to be the one to tell her younger brother and sister what happened to her. She didn't want to be responsible for ruining their innocence and tainting their childhood with the knowledge of their older sister's torture.

"If you don't want to…" Liz begins.

"No," Kathleen repeats. "You guys really want to know. And on a certain level, you deserve to know. You're part of this family. You should know."

They all wait anxiously. Liz and Dickie aren't sure if they want to know anything now. Kathy and Elliot don't know what to expect, or what she'll disclose. They don't know if what she says will be news to them. And Kathleen doesn't know how to approach it all.

"Do you know what rape is?" Kathleen asks cautiously. They nod their heads in affirmation. Kathleen takes a deep breath; afraid to say it, but knowing she has to. "I was raped."

It's silent, and nobody really knows what to say.

"Is that all?" Dickie asks.

It may seem untactful, he knows, but he has to ask. He has to know it all. He has to be told the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. He has to get to the bottom of things so he can finally spend one night not wondering what happened to his older sister whom he has come to adore.

Kathleen shakes her head. "They…the men that kidnapped me…did other things," she says vaguely.

"Like what?" Dickie urges.

"You don't want to know," Kathleen says, looking down.

"Yes I do!" Dickie counters. "I need to know, Kathleen!"

"Dickie, calm down…" his mother starts.

"No! Don't tell me to calm down," he says with a loud sigh. He gets up out of his seat and walks up to Kathleen's. "I have to know, Kathleen. _We_ have to know. Because we love you and we want to help you. I don't care if we are eleven…you said it yourself. We deserve to know. I know maybe I haven't been the best brother. I know I played tricks on you or teased you, but I really do love you, Kathleen. I really do care. And I really do want to know. I can take it. I can handle it. _We_ can handle it."

Kathleen doesn't break the stare with her younger brother, but she does see him in a whole new light. Most boys don't turn into men at eleven, but she knows that as he stands in front of her, he is a man. He is wise and strong. He is her brother who wants to be treated as he has acted – a noble young man.

"Before I say anything, you have not been a bad brother," she says with his face in her hands that are covered by the sleeves of her sweatshirt. He inhales the scent of her. Despite all the changes she has been through, her comforting scent has never changed. "You have been the best brother a girl could ask for and I couldn't imagine my life without you, or you," she says as she reaches out to Liz. Liz latches onto her sister – her hero. "C'mere," she says to both of them, embracing them with everything in her. They return the hug tightly, and with love and support.

"They did a lot of things to me, guys. They hurt me, raped me, hit me…and, tried to kill me. I guess they scared me so much that I didn't want to tell you guys. I was afraid I was going to scare you and I couldn't do that. I didn't want you guys to go through that," she says, sharing glances between the two of them and stroking her sister's hair and her brother's shoulder. "I really hope you guys understand that I wasn't shutting you out. I wasn't trying to shut anyone out," she repeats, but this time, glances at her parents.

"We understand," Dickie says, standing up straight. "Is there anything we can do to make you feel better, or to make it right?"

Kathleen smiles. Dickie doesn't know how she does know, but she knows. He realizes that Kathleen is just like his mother – they know things before he has a chance to tell them. "You," she says, looking at Dickie, "can start helping by getting those grades up. And you," she says, holding onto Liz's shoulder, "can help by going to cheerleading again. I plan to go to those competitions. It'd be nice if you were in the routines." She stares at both of them and smiles. "I really do appreciate the fact that you guys are worrying about me, but you don't have to. I'm going to be alright. Just do what I told ya, and I'll be okay."

"Are you sure those are things that will make you feel better?" Liz asks.

"I'm positive," she says with a grin. She opens her arms, and they both fall into them. She holds onto them, onto their childhood innocence that she wishes she still had. "I love you, guys."

"I love you, too," they say in unison.

**-3:27am- **

Kathleen is startled momentarily when she hears someone coming through the front door. She hears the key in the door being turned, and she holds her breath, paralyzed by the fear inside her. She clutches the blanket that is wrapped around her while she sits on the couch, and doesn't make a sound. She can't let herself be heard.

"Shit," she hears the figure say under its breath, as it hits its foot on something on the floor.

The figure turns to her, squinting through the darkness. It turns on the light, and a wave of relief flows through Kathleen.

"Maureen, what are you doing here?" she asks, out of breath.

Maureen leans against the wall. "I had to close up the shop, and then go to the dorm and write a paper. I couldn't sleep. I figured I'd come here," she says with a shrug. "How about you? Couldn't sleep?"

Kathleen nods. "I fell asleep, but I woke up twenty minutes later. I didn't wanna wake Mom up, so I just came down here."

Maureen moves swiftly and silently to the couch, and sinks into the cushions. She looks at her younger sister, taking in her soft and gentle features. She wishes she could help, but she knows, in the end, her sister is stubborn and will refuse any help.

"You know, it's okay to wake Mom up if you want to, or if you need to. She won't mind," Maureen almost whispers.

Kathleen turns to her sister, and wrings her hands. "I know. But I'll mind."

"It's okay to ask for help, Kat."

"I know," she says as she exhales. "I know."

Maureen stares at her sister. "Kat…" she's about to urge.

"It's just been a bad day, Maur," she says, dismissively, looking away.

"What made it a bad day?" Kathleen doesn't answer. "Kat, you can talk to me. I'm not Mom or Dad. You can trust me."

"I know I can," Kathleen says with tears in her eyes. "I know who I can trust. It's just that…something inside me won't let me trust them. I mean, I know I can, but…" Kathleen wipes the tears away. "Forget it…"

"No, I understand," Maureen says.

"Liz and Dickie wanted to know what happened to me," she says simply. "I had to tell them. I hated it."

"That really had to suck," Maureen says. Kathleen nods, and slowly, she falls into her sister's embrace. Maureen places an arm around her sister, and they remain in this comfortable state for a while.

"What time did you get out of the coffee shop?" Kathleen asks.

"About one. Maybe one-thirty," she answers.

"It took you only an hour and a half to write a complete paper?"

Maureen shrugs. "It's not my best work."

Kathleen laughs. "Why'd you drive all the way over here after spending over an hour in front of a computer?"

"No place like home," she smiles.

Kathleen smiles and snuggles deeper into her sister's warmth. "Mom hates it when you drive in the snow."

"Mom doesn't like the fact that I drive at all."

Silence remains once again, but it is once again shattered. "Do you want to know what happened to me?"

Maureen sighs. "I've thought about it. I mean, it must have been something pretty intense. I've never seen you like this before. But I guess I keep thinking that you'll come to me if you need to. You'll come to me when you're ready."

"I will," she nods. "I really will. I'm just not ready yet."

"And there's not a problem with that. There's not a problem with that at all."

"Thanks for everything, Reenie."

Maureen laughs at the childhood name. "What are sisters for? Right, Leenie?" she giggles with the name she has given her sister. She remembers when they came up with those names. When times were simpler. When the biggest deal in their life was who would make it to the swing set first; who would get the front seat; who could run the fastest.

"Well, as long as we're sitting here, let's watch a movie," Maureen suggests.

"Okay," Kathleen nods, "but it has to have somebody worth watching in it."

"And by 'worth watching,' you mean somebody hot."

"Well, duh."

They laugh, and Maureen can't help but smile. For she just saw something she hasn't seen in awhile. A little bit of the sister she remembers has shone through. And that might mean that her sister is coming back. And she's so excited, and just can't wait.

---  
A/n – I know it's been a long time, but hopefully this made up for time lost. Updates will happen more frequently, I promise! Until next chapter, adios! –Jessica


	13. Gifts

Title: Beautiful Soul  
_Chapter 13_

**A/n –** Yes, I'm back. And it feels good. Please, don't worry, **I WILL FINISH THIS STORY AND CONTINUE TO WRITE**! Thank you for your emails, words of encouragement, and patience. I'm on Student Government and school has just been insane with activities. Forgive me?

Also, I started to write this chapter during December, and I was in the Christmas mood. This chapter was created out of that mood. So, Merry Belated Christmas, Happy Belated Hanukkah, Happy Belated Kwanza, and Happy Belated Holidays all around! Happy Belated Valentine's Day and Happy Early St. Patty's! Warning: This chapter is complete fluff, but hopefully you'll enjoy.

Dedication: Continuing with my promise…detectivesweetheart, Brittany, crypticnotions, BrittanyLS, weaver61, SouthrnBelle, Steph, TonksIsMyHero, Jacky, Erica, Barnbumgal, Melody Elliot, Nat, twinsRus, ObSeSsEdWiThSvU, Kerry, stablerchic14, anon, FicFan, AnnShirley, StablerGirl4Eva, and stelladallas – okay, that should be everyone now! Thank you to each one of you. You are the reason I decided to finish this story.

Disclaimer: not mine. Good enough? Oh. I also have no claim or anything to do with Iron-Jawed Angels.  
---  
**Stabler Residence  
Annual Stabler Christmas party  
Queens, NY  
December 25, 2003  
-6:27pm-**

The doorbell rings once again, and Kathy Stabler steps away from the appetizers she's preparing to answer it. Among the chatter that's lingering with the other guests, the kids running around, those helping with the meal, and whatever else, she knows she's the only one who is available to answer the door.

Kathy steps to the front door, which is decorated with a wreath and garland, and invites her guest in.

"Olivia, glad you could make it," she says with a smile.

"Wouldn't miss this," Olivia replies with an equally big smile. She walks inside, shakes off the small flakes of snow from her coat while Kathy notices the big bag she's carrying. It holds neatly wrapped packages, each one with a different name, each one a different size.

"I thought we said no gifts…" Kathy starts, with a bit of gentle warning in her voice.

"I know, I know," Olivia says with a smile, "but they're for the kids. You know I never follow the rules."

"Yeah, you and the rest of your squad," Kathy replies, taking the bag from Olivia and leading her inside where all the guests are, where all the commotion lies. Olivia's the last to arrive, with Don, Casey, John, and a couple of Kathy's friends sitting around, enjoying each other's company. "Seems no one knows how to follow the rules here. All of 'em brought gifts," she says. "Well, have a seat, enjoy yourself. You want anything to drink?"

"Not right now, thanks. You need any help with the food?"

Kathy smiles at her kindness. "Nah, I think I'm okay. If you change your mind on that drink, let me know," she says, walking back into the kitchen.

"Will do," Olivia says, her voice fading into the mixing conversations. She sits down in the chair that faces Casey and Liz. It seems their card game has erupted once again. Liz giggles, her smile radiant, her winning streak evident. Casey seems contemplative, carefully considering her next move.

"Stop letting me win," Liz giggles as she sets her final card down, the card that entails victory.

"I stopped letting you win four games ago. I'm just really bad at this game," Casey smiles.

"Or I'm just really good," Liz laughs, and Olivia joins her. "Let's take a break. I promised my mom I'd help her with the salad. That okay?"

"That's fine," she smiles. "Give me a chance to regroup."

Liz scampers off, Casey leans back in her chair, and Olivia smiles. "You are really bad at that game," she jokes.

"You're telling me. I never let her win. Beat me all twelve times, fair and square." Casey sighs, and looks up at Olivia. "So you the last one to arrive?"

"I guess so. Traffic was horrible."

"Well, wait, what happened to Fin?"

"With his son." Olivia sighs, leaning back in her chair, exhausted. "Speaking of absent people, where is Kathleen?"

"Upstairs in her room," answers Liz as she comes back inside. "Mom's not ready yet. How about one more game?"

"Bring it on," Casey leans forward with a smile.

Liz begins dealing out the cards and looks at Olivia. "You can go up to Kathleen's room to see her if you want," she mentions. "I'm sure she won't mind."

"Yeah?" Olivia replies.

"Yeah," she confirms, shrugging, still focused on her game. "You know which room is hers, right?"

Olivia nods. "I'll be back."

Before she heads upstairs, she grabs the present she had gotten for Kathleen. She takes one step at a time up the stairs, and stops at Kathleen's door. It's opened a little and she peeks in. Kathleen's lying in her bed, her arm over her face. She's dressed nicely, with black slacks and a red turtleneck sweater. Her hair is in soft curls and black boots cover her feet.

"Kathleen," Olivia says softly, so she doesn't startle her.

Kathleen lifts her arm from her face and sits up, facing Olivia. "Hey," she smiles. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," she offers as she walks into the young woman's room. "What are you doing up here?"

She shrugs. "I was down there for a little while. There's just a lotta people downstairs."

Olivia nods understandingly. "This is for you," she says, handing her the small box wrapped to perfection.

"You didn't have to get me anything."

"What are you going to do about it now?"

Kathleen smiles, unwrapping the gift. It's a long white box, and she opens it, revealing a gift certificate to a nearby spa. "Olivia, this is…this is great. Thank you so much," she says, tears starting to form from the kindness.

"You need a day off. They do everything there. Hair, nails, make-up, mud baths, relaxation retreats…everything. And it doesn't have an expiration date, so you can use it whenever you want – whenever you're ready."

"Thank you," Kathleen smiles, taking Olivia into a hug. And Olivia sees Kathleen – really sees her. Not as a victim, not as somebody who got hurt, but as a young woman, a beautiful soul waiting to be set free.

&&&&&&&

"From what I hear, we have a budding feminist on our hands," Munch says, smiling toward Kathleen. All the guests have gathered together in the living room, where gifts come to life and smiles are revealed because of the joy they bring. "So I knew you'd appreciate this."

He moves the gift from behind his back to in front of Kathleen. It's a movie – unwrapped, with a simple green bow on it.

"Wrapping isn't a gift I was born with," he shrugs, as he hands it to her.

Kathleen smiles, removing the festive bow and examining the movie. _Iron-Jawed Angels_. Hilary Swank, Margo Martindale, Angelica Houston. She's never seen it, but she thinks she'll like it.

"It's about the women's suffrage movement. Heard it was very inspiring. Especially to someone like you," John smiles.

Kathleen returns the smile and gives him a hug. "Thank you so much. I think I'll like this."

Other gifts are passed around. Some for the Stabler children, some for the SVU co-workers, some for Kathy's friends, some for Kathy, some for Elliot. It feels like a real Christmas. No talk of the case. No chatter of the trial. No conversation of the event that has shaken the Stabler family. It's just Christmas. A family celebration. And Elliot enjoys it. He looks over at Kathleen and she's laughing with Olivia and Maureen, and that makes him smile even more.

And he knows what's about to happen will keep her smile plastered on for quite awhile.

He searches for Kathy in the small crowd, to see if it's the right time. He finds her, and she nods, smiling, giving him the okay. He checks outside, and goes ahead with the plan.

"Hey, guys," he says to quiet everyone down. "It seems I forgot a present." He pulls out a plain white envelope that lay on one of the branches of the Christmas tree and looks toward Kathleen, who's still smiling from her joke with Olivia. "And it's got Kathleen's name on it."

Kathleen seems surprised and reaches her hand out to take the thick envelope. She notices her name written hastily in black ink, yet that's all that's on the envelope. No name of who it's from. No other note.

"Nice wrapping," she jokes to her father.

"Just open it," he smiles.

"Alright, alright." She breaks the seal and looks into the envelope. A key-ring and a stack of folded papers. She takes out the keychain, with an attached key. A key to a car. And her eyes widen. She looks at her parents, who each share a smile with her. She takes out the papers, unfolds them, and reads the words on them quickly to herself.

"Kathleen, what is it? What is the paper for?" Liz asks.

"It's a title," Kathleen answers in a daze.

Liz is genuinely confused. "A title? Like a title to a book?"

"No…to a car."

Kathleen finds another small piece of paper in the envelope and unfolds that as well. It's a note, written as hastily as her name on the envelope, but it answers any questions she may have. She reads it aloud:

"_A beautiful ride for a beautiful niece. Come check outside, Kat. –Uncle Jim" _

Kathleen glances at both her parents before running outside, with envelope and papers in hand. People follow, just as curious, and they stop behind her on the front porch of the house, where they can see a car across the street. It's a shimmering shade of blue, two-door, and excites Kathleen to the core.

She seems shocked, switching her vision from the papers to the car that's parked in front of her. And all of a sudden, a small child that Kathleen automatically recognizes, no older than six, runs up from behind the car, making her way to the front porch, yelling and smiling the whole way.

"Kafeen! Kafeen! Do you like it? Do you like it?" Isabel Stabler says excitedly, running into Kathleen's arms.

"Yeah," she breathes, hugging the child in her arms. "I like it very much, Isabel."

"Daddy let me pick out the color. Isn't it a pretty color?"

"Very pretty," she agrees, still in amazement, staring at the car.

"Uncle Ewiot!" Isabel yelps. "Aunt Kafey! Merry Cwismas!"

Kathleen lets her down, and Isabel runs into Elliot's arms. Kathleen finally gazes back to the car, where she sees another two familiar faces.

"Uncle Jim!" Kathleen screams, running down the short driveway, across the street, and into his arms, much like Isabel had done to her own uncle. Elliot and Kathy follow her to greet their newest guest.

"Merry Christmas to you, too, sweetheart," says Jim Stabler, Elliot's older brother, "but I'm way too old to be carrying you like this." They laugh together, and Kathleen gets down, giving a hug to her other cousin, Joey Stabler.

"Hey there, kiddo. You in on this, too?" Kathleen asks the little boy.

"I told you I could keep a secret, Dad!" he jokes and smiles. "I never told her!"

"Yeah, you proved me wrong, kid," Jim smiles. He looks to Kathleen, who's still smiling and giggling in shock. "So, Kat, know how to drive a stick shift?" he asks after a pause.

"Yeah," she laughs in disbelief.

"You want to take a little joy ride?" he says with a grin.

"Uncle Jim, I couldn't possibly take this. This is…this is…"

"Pretty incredible, I know. And it's all for you. Come on, let's go for a little ride," he urges.

"Jim, I think it's pretty late. How about when it's light outside?" Kathy suggests, just like a mother should as she approaches Jim.

"I'm sure one ride wouldn't hurt, Kath," Elliot tries with Isabel in his arms, but Jim puts his hand up.

"Don't bother, little brother. If I know one thing, it's the mother who trumps all…all the time. No use in trying to change her mind if it's already made up," he says, smiling toward Kathy with a smile dripping with charm. "Isn't that right, Isabel? Isn't Mommy always right?"

"Yep, yep, yep!" she smiles and giggles, jumping in Elliot's arms. "Mommy always wins!"

"Well, thanks," Kathy smiles. "Always such the charmer."

"Merry Christmas, Kathy," Jim says, hugging her. "Same with you, little brother."

"Uncle Jim, this is just so much. I don't know if I can…" Kathleen starts.

"Well, your parents were in on it, too," he offers.

"Really?" she says, looking at them.

"You deserve it, honey," Kathy answers. "But this will be your responsibility. The gas, the oil changes, washing and cleaning it. All yours."

"Too much for you now?" Jim asks with a grin.

Kathleen shakes her head with a laugh, and tears of joy start up again. Her uncle looks at her like he hasn't made her life so much better. Like buying her a car is the same as buying her the pair of designer jeans she wanted. "I can handle it. Thank you so much." She falls into his arms, giving the hug of a lifetime.

"No problem, kid. Only the best for you," Jim says as he strokes her back. Jim catches a glance at Kathy and Elliot and grins. They break away and with a clap of his hands, Jim says, "Well, it's freezing out here. Let's take this little pow wow inside, shall we? Introduce me to your friends."

He puts an arm around Kathleen and they all walk together to the front porch, where the rest of the guests wait. "Guys," Elliot announces, "this is my older brother, Jim."

"And these little blessings are my kids," Jim announces, taking Isabel from Elliot. "This one's Joey. He's eight…"

"And I'm Isabel. I'm this many," she says, holding up six fingers.

The guests laugh, greeting them, and they all move inside. Elliot and Jim move toward Olivia, who smiles with a drink in her hand.

"Jim, this is my partner, Olivia Benson. Liv, this is Jim."

"Nice to meet you, Jim," Olivia says with an outstretched hand.

Jim smiles, taking her hand. "So you're the one who's got my brother's back everyday?"

"Well, I do the best I can," she says with a smile.

"When Elliot said his partner was a woman, he didn't mention that you were this good looking."

"Alright, Jim," Elliot says, saving the moment. "You're getting chatty, and you haven't had anything to drink yet."

"Yeah, besides, she's waaayyy out of your league," says Kathleen passing into the house.

"Okay, brat, you're getting it," he says with a laugh. Kathleen scampers off in giggles, and Jim runs after her.

"Sorry about that. If it's one thing my brother is, it's a charmer."

"It's alright," Olivia laughs. "Must be a good guy if he did all that for Kathleen."

"Yeah," Elliot nods, gazing at his brother and his daughter who are now laughing together. "Ever since the day she was born, they've had some sort of connection. Not really sure how to put it, but…"

"Hi," says Isabel, breaking Olivia and Elliot's conversation, tugging on her pant leg. "My name's Isabel."

"I heard," Olivia says, kneeling down to the girl. "Mine's Olivia."

"Kafeen said you work with Uncle Ewiot."

"I do."

"Are you a copper? Like Uncle Ewiot?"

"I sure am," Olivia nods.

"Do you awrest the bad guys and evwything?"

"Yep."

"This boy, Ethan, at my school says that boys are better than girls, and that girls can't be coppers. He said that they're not good enough."

"Well, Isabel, I can tell you that girls are as good as boys, no matter what Ethan says. They can do anything boys can do. And you can tell him I said that."

"Well, he doesn't say that any more. He stopped after I called him a butt-face."

Olivia laughs. "That works, too."

"Wait till I tell Ethan!" Isabel says, running off.

Olivia smiles to herself, and walks toward the kitchen unnoticed, catching the conversation between Jim and Kathy.

"…How is Elise, by the way?" she hears Kathy ask.

"Good," Jim nods. "The kids spent Monday with her and Ben. I get the rest of the week with them."

"How do the kids like Ben?"

"They don't hate him, if that's what you mean. They're warming up to him. They see that he makes her happy. I guess that's all they really notice. And that's all I care about. As long as she's happy, I'm fine. Even if it's not with me."

"Takes a big man to say that," Kathy says to him gently, setting a drink next to him.

"Enough with this whole serious conversation thing. It's Christmas! Let's talk about something else," he says, shooing off any thoughts of his divorce that he knows was his entire fault.

Kathy sees Olivia, and straightens herself. "Olivia, how about I freshen up that drink for you."

Olivia tries not to act surprised that she was noticed. "Thanks," she says, handing the glass to her. She sits down next to Jim. "That Isabel of yours is a cutie."

"To know her is to love her," he smiles.

"So, you live around here, Jim?"

"Actually, I don't. Born here, but I live in Miami now."

"Must be nice," she grins.

"It's a place for me and the kids to call home. And it's close to their mom." He senses the aura of the conversation turning dark, so he changes the subject. "So, you're a cop."

Olivia recognizes the obvious change of subject. "Yep. For almost ten years. Detective for about six."

"Pretty impressive." He takes a drink, looking up at her. "Hey, I'm sorry if I offended you earlier. Bad habit of mine – speaking before thinking."

"Well, I've had worse said to me. But I appreciate it."

"My brother is pretty lucky to have a partner like you."

"I'm pretty lucky myself," Olivia smiles, catching Jim's eyes. But Kathleen interrupts whatever she sees in them.

"You harassing Olivia?" Kathleen says, wrapping an arm around Jim's neck.

"Actually, I believe it was Ms. Benson here who initiated the conversation."

"Be careful," Kathleen warns playfully. "You're messing with trouble," she jokes.

"I always liked taking a risk every now and then," says Olivia, and Jim smiles toward her.

Kathleen notices the exchange, and sits on her uncle's lap. "So, tomorrow you'll take me for a ride?"

"I think it's you who's going to take me for a ride."

"Awesome," she laughs. "How's everything in the big M-I-A?"

"Not bad, not bad. You should come down some time."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. Anytime you want. It's a nice place to relax."

"I might take you up on that."

Elliot walks in with Isabel on his back. "Somebody wants to be Santa's little helper and pass out presents," he says smiling.

"Daddy, you pwomised that if I was good in the car and didn't fight with Joey, then I could pass out pwsents as soon as we got here. You pwomised…"

"I did say that, didn't I?" he laughs. He stands up, taking Isabel from Elliot and resting her on his hip. "Well, Ms. Isabel, you know I never break my promises."

"Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!" she says, jumping in her father's arms. "I got pwesents to give!"

&&&&&&

Kathleen's so excited about her new car, the presence of her favorite uncle and her cousins, and the fact that she's not thinking about the trial, that she doesn't even hear the doorbell ring. She doesn't even realize that the surprises will keep on coming, and her night, as great as it is, will get even better.

"Kat, Greg's at the door," says Elliot, coming back into the living room.

Kathleen seems surprised, and becomes instantly nervous. She hasn't seen Greg in person since the day she disappeared, and while the conversation she had with him on the phone was nice, her stomach still does flips.

"Really?"

"Why would I lie?" her father smiles. "Invite him in, we've got plenty of food if he wants any."

"Okay," she whispers. She puts down her drink on the table and makes her way to the door.

She stops at the door, catching her breath, and gathers her thoughts. She opens the door to reveal him pacing on the front porch. Her stomach flips and her eyes cannot leave him. He's dressed in a nice button down green shirt and dress pants. He looks so different than last time she saw him. His eyes are little greener, he's a little taller, a little bit more muscular, his hair a little darker, and his face a little more drained.

She sees the bouquet of flowers in his hand, as well as the present he carries. He continues to pace, not noticing Kathleen standing in front of him.

"Greg?" she whispers. "You okay?"

He stops dead in his tracks, looking up at his angel on earth. "Wow."

"Wow, what?"

"You look amazing."

"Back at 'cha."

"Uh…these are for you," he says, handing her the bouquet of tulips and roses. Her favorite.

"Thank you," she blushes, taking them. "Do you want to come in? Maybe have a bite to eat?"

He looks passed her and into the living room that the open door reveals. "No thanks. I just wanted to give you your present. I really got to get home."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," he says, his breathing staggered.

Kathleen closes the door and steps completely on the porch. She stops right in front of him, and for the first time in their years of being friends, she begins to see him more than a friend.

"This is for you," he manages to get out beyond the emotion in his throat. He hands her the jewelry box.

She looks down at his hand and takes the gift graciously. She opens it, revealing the most beautiful gold bracelet she's seen in her life. "Oh Greg," she breathes. "I…I…I don't…I don't deserve this."

"You deserve much more than that," he says. Her eyes are drawn to the bracelet, and she can feel Greg get closer to her. His body radiates through the small space between them. "There's another part to your present."

She keeps her eyes focused on the bracelet, afraid that she'll cry from pure joy if she looks up at him. She slowly looks up as she says, "Yeah? And what would that…"

Before she can finish her sentence, he leans in and kisses her. A full, all-out, makes-you-see-fireworks kind of kiss. And she falls immediately into him, kissing him back. She's not sure what really happened between them that brought them to this point, but neither can deny that it feels so right.

They pull apart from each other, and Greg cups her cheek in his hand. "You're my everything, Kat."

Kathleen stares into his green eyes, getting lost in them. "I…I…I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. I just…I just knew that if I didn't do this tonight, I'd regret it." Silence remains and Kathleen can't seem to let go of him. "Do you regret me coming down here?"

Kathleen blinks, reality hitting her. "No," she whispers over her tears. "Not at all."

He kisses her on the cheek and says, "I love you."

The words come out before she can stop them. "I love you, too."

"Merry Christmas."

"Back at 'cha," she smiles.

"I hate to kiss and run, but I gotta get home."

"Are you sure? I mean…"

"I really would if I could." He squeezes her hand and gives her that smile that has always made her weak in the knees. He turns, stepping off the front porch, but stops when he hears her.

"Greg? We're still…" She struggles for the right words. "We're okay, right? I mean, we're good? Things won't change because of that kiss, will they?"

He walks back to her with a smile. "We're still best friends, if that's what you mean. But if things do change, it'll be for the better. Trust me?"

"More than anybody."

He turns, walking back to the cab that is waiting for him. He knows that his dad will be mad that he's late. That a fight will erupt once again, and yelling will occur, made worse by the stench of alcohol. Tonight will be especially horrible, because it is the anniversary that his mother left. Gone. Walked out of their life, their family. Without a goodbye, without a trace. But as he looks back at Kathleen, standing on the porch, something within him settles. And all fear dissipates.

He thinks it's a funny coincidence. That tonight is the anniversary of an old relationship ending, yet, a new love begins.

Kathleen catches her breath and she smiles to herself as she watches the taxi cab drive away. She smells the flowers, but the only smell she can remember is his mesmerizing cologne. She lets out a muffled squeal, something no other boy has made her do. She walks back in her house, and her eyes fall upon her guests, who are unusually silent.

They pretend that everything's normal. They act like they don't know a single thing. Like they haven't all been watching from the window for the past ten minutes.

**11:54pm**

The party begins to die down, as food is eaten and more presents are opened. The kids start to become drowsy from all the excitement, and guests prepare to go home.

"I think Ms. Isabel needs to go to bed," whispers Jim in his daughter's ear.

"But, Daddy…I'm…not…tired," she yawns, trying to keep her eyes open.

"Well, Daddy is. So, let's start packin' up, okay?" he persuades, running his finger over her cheek.

"What do you mean, 'packin' up'?" Kathy questions. "Don't tell me you're going to spend your time in a hotel."

"Okay. I won't tell you," he smiles, picking up Isabel.

"Jim," Kathy begins, "stay here with us. I don't feel comfortable knowing that you're spending your money on an overpriced hotel when you could just take the guest room."

Jim gives her another charming smile, and reaches for her hand as he juggles Isabel on his hip. "Such the gracious hostess, but I couldn't impede on you like this."

"You know you're always welcome here. And you know what Elliot will say when he finds out. Do you _really_ want me to sick him on you?"

"Do you want me to remind you that I'm two years older and have never lost a fight to him?" he counters.

"Elliot! Knock some sense into your brother!" Kathy yells from the living room, and Jim's head lowers. She's ready to fight. She knows Stabler boys are all the same – never taking favors from anyone and always stubborn. And she ready to let them duke it out.

"Why?" Elliot questions from the kitchen. He and Olivia stop their conversation and enter. "What did you do this time, Jim?"

"Said I was going to spend the night in a hotel," he turns.

"No, you're not. We got the guest room already set up for you," Elliot says, staring.

Jim exchanges a look between Elliot and Kathy, and then back to his daughter, who's just about asleep in his arms.

"You really think Isabel's going to make it all the way the hotel?" Kathy says with a smirk.

"Fine. You guys win. We'll stay."

Kathy gives him another smirk. "Guess you haven't lost _every_ fight to him."

"I let him win…"

"Daddy, where am I gonna sleep?" Isabel says, looking up to her dad.

"She can crash in my room, Uncle Jim…if she wants," Kathleen offers.

"You want to sleep in Kathleen's room, honey?" Isabel nods with a yawn.

"Okay then. Let's say goodnight to everyone." Kathleen takes Isabel into her arms, and goodnights are exchanged around the room. "I got this new pink quilt that you can use, Iz. I think you'll like it."

Her voice fades as she climbs each stair, and Dickie comes in. "Joey can sleep in my room," he offers.

"Yeah!" Joey responds before Jim can say thank you. "No girls are allowed into your room, are they?"

"Joey…" his dad warns.

Dickie laughs. "Nah. They don't want to come in, anyway. They say it's too smelly."

"Isabel says that to me, too." Goodnights are exchanged once again, and the rest of the children make their way to bed.

"That's my cue," says Olivia. "Thanks for a wonderful night, you guys." She exchanges hugs with Elliot and Kathy. "It was very nice meeting you, Jim," she says, shaking his hand. His eyes capture her one more time. They're much like Elliot's, yet so different.

"You, too," he smiles. "Very nice meeting you."

Elliot helps her with her coat, and she steps outside. She begins walking to her car and is almost completely in when she hears a familiar voice.

"Olivia! Wait!" Kathleen yells from the front door. Olivia hears Kathy saying something about putting on a coat, and Kathleen grabs the closest one to her on the rack. She runs to Olivia and stands in front of her.

"Kathleen, you're going to freeze out here."

"You left before I could give you your present."

"You didn't have to get me anything," she says sincerely.

"What are you going to do about it now?" she says with a smirk as she imitates Olivia's words just hours earlier. Olivia laughs, and with a smile, takes the wrapped present. "Well, go ahead. Open it."

Olivia slowly rips off the green paper, and holds the velvet box in her hands. "It already looks like you spent way too much money on this."

"I won't even begin to wonder how much my present cost," she counters.

She opens the box, and gasps in surprise. It's a gorgeous necklace with a simple delicate charm of a snowflake. Gems are placed around it, and Olivia holds back her tears.

"I picked it out, but Dad helped with the size. Do you like it?"

"Oh honey, I love it," she says.

"Do you remember what you said?" Olivia looks at her in confusion. "The day you found me…in the ambulance, you tried to keep me awake and you talked about the weather." Olivia's memory is still blurry, but the conversation comes back to her. It's possible that she'll never forget that day. "I asked you if you liked the snow. You said that you liked snowflakes more. 'No two are the same'." Kathleen looks at her, and even in the darkness, Olivia can see her heart on her sleeve.

"I didn't think you remembered that."

"How can I forget?"

Olivia closes the box and looks at it for only a moment. "Thank you so much, Kathleen. I think this is the best present I've ever gotten."

"And you're the best gift I've ever gotten."

"You sure it's not Greg's kiss?" she jokes with a smile.

Kathleen blushes. "You were actually watching us?"

"Hey, I wasn't the only one. Your dad and Uncle Jim were ready to pounce on him if he said or did something stupid."

Kathleen laughs. "Yeah. Sounds like them," she nods. "Thanks for everything, Liv."

They hug, and Elliot's voice breaks it apart. "Kathleen Gabrielle Stabler! It's twenty degrees outside! You're going to freeze! Tell Olivia goodnight and get back in here!"

Kathleen smiles. "I gotta go."

"Goodnight, and thanks again."

"Thank _you_."

&&&&&&&

"Kafeen, will you tell me a stowy?" asks Isabel. "Pwease?

"I think I can come up with something," she responds, getting under the covers. Isabel snuggles up next her. "How about this one? Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess…"

"What was her name?" Isabel urges.

"Isabel, of course. And Princess Isabel lived with her wicked aunt and uncle."

"Uncle Ewiot and Aunt Kafey aren't evil," she giggles.

"Their names weren't Elliot and Kathy. They were Uncle Belliot and Aunt Taffy. So, Princess Isabel wanted to live with her parents who were all the way in Kiami. But she needed help getting there. So, one day, Princess Isabel couldn't take it anymore and called on the town superhero to help her…"

"What was her name?"

Kathleen thinks for a minute, trying to find the perfect name to complete the bedtime story.

"Olivia."

---  
A/n – totally fluff. But that's okay. I just wanted to take a break from all the intense drama writing I've been doing. If you liked the drama, no worries. It'll be back. Hopefully, I'll write more often. I have a "mini-break" coming up soon at my school. Once again, just to emphasize, DO NOT WORRY – I WILL FINISH THIS STORY. I will continue to write and post on this site. Thank you for your patience and your encouragement. You guys are truly the best and I bow down to you. Until next chapter, adios! –Jessica


	14. Climbing Stairs

Title: Beautiful Soul  
_Chapter 14_

**A/n –** I really am going to try to update this more. Glad to see you guys are still reading. Oh, and this is very dialogue heavy.

Disclaimer: not mine. Good enough?

---  
**Stabler Residence  
December 26**

**-1:34am- **

For Kathleen Stabler, stairs have always held a certain sense of symbolism. They were more than things that got you from one floor to another. She always thought of them as metaphors for life. For the obstacles in that life.

Like stairs with different floors of a building, obstacles bring you from one point in your life to another. Sometimes they bring you up; other times they bring you down. Some are harder to climb and get over than others. Some longer, others shorter; some steeper, others gradual; some winding, others straight; some you climb with ease, others you fall down while climbing.

But Kathleen has always realized that in the end, the stairs have served their purpose. Whether or not they were easy to get over, they have brought you to your destination, and you move on from there. Just like obstacles.

She always thought of her comparison as a stupid one. Something that was just concocted out of her wild imagination. Something that was supposed to make summing up life easier.

But tonight, she thinks of her observation as a little ironic. Because, tonight, she sits smack dab in the middle of her staircase. Right in the middle. Caught between climbing up and falling down. Which is exactly where she is in her life. She could overcome her obstacle, or fall down trying. She could give up and turn around. Or she could trudge the rest of the way up. She's just not sure what she wants to do. Which would be easier? Which would be best?

She should go to bed, but bed only brings nightmares. She could go and get a drink of water, but the kitchen is dark, and she has now come to hate anything without light. She flops her head into her knees that are tucked into her chest in her angst.

"Your parents spend how much money on that big bed of yours, and you choose to sleep on the stairs?" comes a familiar and comforting whisper. "You know I love you, but, I am beginning to question your logic."

Kathleen can't help but smile. She looks up at her uncle, wearing his pajama pants, t-shirt, and a grin, and she pats the place next to her on the stair for him to come and sit.

He smiles, and walks toward her, sitting next to his niece. "You okay, kiddo? What are you doing up so late?"

She shrugs. "Couldn't sleep." She runs a nervous hand over her otherwise spunky ponytail, and catches her uncle's glance. "How about you?"

"Jet lag, I guess."

"Oh," Kathleen says, uncertain as to what to say. Even talking to her favorite uncle has become a difficult task, and she hates that. Being with him used to be the easiest thing in the world. She told him everything. Things she probably couldn't even tell her parents, or her siblings, or her friends. And now that, like everything else in her life, has shattered right in front of her. And the worst part is knowing she can't do a thing about it. She can't change it. Not until she gets up enough courage. God only knows how long that will be.

"You sure you're okay, Kitty-Kat?"

"You know I hate being called Kitty-Kat."

"And you know I hate being lied to," he counters. "You know you can tell me anything."

She looks at him, staring into his deep blue eyes. They're lighter than cobalt, but deeper than her own aqua eyes. "I know," she barely gets out. "I know." She turns her head, his hypnotic stare becoming too much.

"What's wrong, kiddo? Come on, you know you can tell me."

"I hate being seen as a victim." She gets it out quickly, because she doesn't want it to hurt when it comes out. But it does anyway.

Jim exhales deeply, and puts a soothing hand on her shoulder. "Well, honey, if it helps…I don't see you as a victim."

The words almost choke her in shock. "Really?"

"Now why would I even begin to think of seeing you like that?"

"For the same reason everyone else does."

"Doesn't matter what everyone else thinks."

She looks at him. "Then why should your opinion matter? You're someone else."

He's not sure what to make of the statement. But he sees the smile she's about to crack and gives her a light push. "Brat." She laughs and he loves it. "You know, you've always been like this."

"Like what?"

"Inquisitive. Critical. Logical. Analytical."

She grins. "Well…thanks."

He throws his arm around her shoulder, and they lean into each other. Kathleen hasn't felt this comfortable in a long time. She hates to admit it because she knows her family has been as supportive as they can, and Olivia has given a piece of herself up to Kathleen everytime she sees her, but she can't deny that her Uncle Jim has always been the one that calms her. Even living all the way down in Miami hasn't strained the connection they've had since she was born.

"So…" she starts, trying to keep the conversation alive. "How's Aunt Elise?"

He rubs her shoulder, and smiles to himself. Even after the divorce, she has remained Aunt Elise. Even though she has no real ties to the Stabler name anymore, her title of aunt will remain. Force of habit, or something more, Jim will never be sure, but he deals with it.

"She's doing okay."

"Just okay?"

He gently laughs. "Probably more than okay. She's getting married this upcoming spring."

Kathleen pulls out of the quiet embrace they've been in to look at her uncle. "She's getting remarried? You never…But she didn't…How come you didn't tell us?"

Jim looks down. "None of my business, really. And, plus, Isabel and Joey don't know. Figured it would be easier to tell them after Christmas and the new year if they didn't take it well."

Kathleen nods, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. "Uncle Jim…I'm so sorr…"

"Don't be sorry. Don't be sorry," he repeats, just a little forcefully. "Come on. I didn't call you up and say sorry to you when I found out about what happened to you. Don't say sorry to me. These things are out of our control now, and you just play the hand you're dealt. Promise me you won't apologize for something's that's not your fault."

"I promise," she says, a little shaky. "I didn't mean it like…"

"I know you didn't, kiddo," he says, bringing her back into his arms. He wonders for a minute if he and his daughter will have moments like this when she grows up. Moments like the kind he and Kathleen have shared. "I know you didn't."

"Thank you." She says it simply into his chest. His shirt smells a little like her dad, but it's so different.

"For what, kiddo?"

"For not giving me sympathy. For not changing who you are, even when something like this happened to me."

"You've never liked sympathy. Even when you were little, if you didn't get something, you were always angry, but you were never sad. Pissed off, but never sad. And that's why it kills me to see you like this. To see you so upset. So distraught over what happened."

"I don't know what to do."

"You gotta figure out what you really want. You gotta figure out what is that you really yearn for. What do want, Kat? What do really want out of all this?"

"I don't know," she answers, her lip quivering.

"Tell you what. Once you figure it all out, things will get better. Once you figure out what you want out of all this, I'll tell you what you need to do."

"What do I need to do?"

"Figure out what you want first."

She nods, and leans back into him. "That'll take some time."

"So, take time."

She grabs a hold of his shirt because she feels reality will swallow her whole. She needs someone to hold onto. This will become too much, and she can't let go. And likewise, his grip on her tightens, as if they are the only people left to deal with the harsh notions of life.

"Uncle Jim, can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Do you think I should go to a shrink? You know, for counseling?"

Jim takes a deep breath. Like every Stabler, he hasn't been a big fan of any sort of psychiatry. It's never worked in his favor. Marriage counseling didn't help. AA didn't help. The therapy that was court-appointed after the divorce didn't help. Talking to someone who has a degree in analyzing people just never sit well with Jim Stabler. But he knows, as he looks at his young and already broken niece, she may need it. She may need that person to talk to.

"What do you think you should do?"

"I don't know," she shrugs. "I mean, I want help, but I know as soon as I get in there, I'll freeze, and I'll just close up. So, what's the point?"

"Good point," he nods. "You know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think that you are braver than you think you are. That you are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. And I have a feeling that if you give it enough effort, it might work. But you have to give it at least a chance." See, Jim knows that in the end, the counseling never worked for him because he never let it. He never cared that much. He never gave it enough effort. And he has regretted it all. He'll be damned if he lets his niece do the same thing.

"I think you're right." She holds onto him tighter. "God, I just want this to be over! I just want to get away from it all."

"My door in Miami is always open."

"You really mean it?"

"You know I do. And I know that if you talk to your mom and dad about it, they might say yes. If they know how much you really want it, they'll have to at least think about it."

"Thanks, Uncle Jim."

"Oh, honey, you know you're worth it all."

---  
**-4:27pm-**

"Mommy?" Kathleen asks, walking into the kitchen where her mom sits at the table. Kathy has her head in a mountain of bills. She wears the glasses she only wears for reading, and switches her sight between one bill, another bill, and the calculator.

"Hmm?" Kathy asks, her head still in a bill.

"Can we talk?"

She says it in that meek voice that she's only recently developed, and it catches Kathy. It grabs her, and she puts the bill down. She looks up to her daughter whose clad in her pajamas, and takes off her glasses. She sees Kathleen nibble at her lower lip, a nervous habit Kathy herself once had, and pushes out the chair next to her.

"Of course we can. Come sit."

Kathleen pushes herself off of the wall, and walks to her mother. She sits, curling into herself. Kathy scoots closer to her, and begins stroking her back and her head, smoothing her stray hairs.

Kathleen looks up at her. "Have you and Dad been thinking about getting therapy for me?"

Kathy looks into her daughter's eyes. "I'm not going to lie, we have talked about it. But nothing's final. Why do you ask?"

She takes a deep breath, focusing her attention on the kitchen table. "I think…I want…I mean, I think I want help. I think I want to talk to someone about all this. Like a shrink." She gets it all out in one big jumble for Kathy to comprehend.

Kathy exhales, still stroking her back. "Okay," she breathes. "If that's what you want, then we'll do it."

"I don't know if that's what I want, but I gotta give it a chance, right?"

She smiles at her daughter's courage. "Yeah, honey," she whispers.

"I mean, I don't know if I can do it."

"Well, if it helps, your father and I were thinking we should all go see someone to talk to."

Kathleen looks sharply at her mother. "Really? Why would everyone have to?"

"Neither of us can deny that this has affected all of us. One way or another, this has affected all of us. And we all just need to take a step back and really reflect on it all."

"Even you and Dad?"

"Even me and your father."

"I'll admit I'm scared."

Kathy strokes her daughter's hair one more time before pulling her into a hug. "Me, too, honey. Me, too."

They share a tender moment, and Jim Stabler smiles to himself on the other side of the wall. They don't know he's been listening to the whole conversation, but he soon leaves, off to hold his own daughter close.

---  
**December 30**

**-9:45am-**

"Dad, I don't understand why we have to go see this guy."

"Because, we just do."

"You said we didn't have to do anything in life but die and pay taxes."

"Dickie, now's not the time to be a smart-mouth."

"Sorry, Dad."

Elliot looks at his son, taking in his miniature self. "I know you're just trying to lighten the mood, but you gotta be tactful. This isn't going to be easy on everybody. Okay?"

"Okay," he nods.

"And Dickie? We have to do this because it's good to talk about things. It's good to just let it all out." He doesn't believe it, or at least he doesn't practice what he preaches, but part of being a parent is making your child better than you turned out.

"But I talk to you. Why do we have to go to someone else to talk?"

"You got a good point there, kid, but Dr. Huang will help sort things out more than I or your mother can."

"What are we going to talk about?"

"Not sure," he shrugs, lying. "You'll just have to wait and see."

"We're going to talk about what happened to Kathleen, aren't we?"

It really does kill him to ignore his son's question, but in order to survive today, he can't take on too much. "Go see if your sister and your mom are ready yet."

-

"Mommy, why do we have to go see this doctor? I feel fine."

"Liz, you and I have talked about this, and you know that he's not a doctor that's going to do a check-up on you. He's a psychiatrist. He just wants to talk to you."

"Why?"

"Because it's good to talk about things. Especially with everything going on, it's good to just let some things off your chest."

"What is he going to talk to us about?"

"Different things, I guess. Maybe school. Maybe friends. Maybe your sports."

"Maybe what's happening with Kathleen?" her daughter completes.

"Yeah honey," she says, stopping to catch her breath. "He might ask you about what's going on with Kathleen."

-

"'Leen, you ready?"

Kathleen smiles. "Yeah, 'Reen, I'm almost there. I just gotta find some shoes to wear."

"Your brown boots will probably go best with that outfit."

"You think so?"

"Yeah," she smiles. "Kathleen, you okay?"

"I think so," she breathes. "Just trying to clear my head."

Maureen grins. "That's what the session's for."

"Very funny. How come you're not as nervous as the rest of us?"

"None of us have anything to hide. Why be nervous?"

Kathleen nods, looking down. Maureen takes her sister in a hug, holding on tight. "You're my hero," she whispers, for Kathleen's ears only.

-

"Kath, almost there?"

"Yeah, but I gotta find a jacket."

"The blue one you like should match."

She grins. "Thanks…Wow. It's been awhile since you've helped pick out my clothes."

"Let's be honest. I never really helped pick out your clothes," he laughs.

"But you did always try. And I liked that."

Silence falls between them, afraid of what will come next.

"All you gotta do is talk, El. That's it. Don't make it harder than it should be."

-

"Uncle Jim?" Kathleen asks to thin air when she walks into the guest room.

"Kafeen!" comes Isabel's excited reply.

"Hey, Iza-bug," she says with a tired grin. "Where's Daddy?"

"Bafroom," she states matter-of-factly.

She puts her cousin down and Isabel runs out the door, calling after her brother. Kathleen walks to the bathroom, and knocks on the door. It opens immediately and she sees her uncle shaving.

"Hey, Kat. What's up?"

"Just wanted to say good-bye. We're leaving for that psychiatrist's office."

He smiles, proud of his niece. "Remember what I said. Give it a chance."

She nods, and wrings her hands together. "You guys going to be okay here by yourselves?"

"Actually, this is one of the first times in New York for Isabel. I'm going to take 'em around. Show 'em some stuff. You know, the tourist things. Maybe some other things. Whatever we have time for."

She smiles. "Have fun. Take lots of pictures."

"My Isabel spending an entire day in New York and not taking any pictures? Yeah, that'll happen," he snorts. "You know she loves being behind the camera just as much as she loves being in front of it."

Kathleen laughs, yet, she wishes she could be six again. To not know what rape and murder was. To not know that humankind can be so evil. "Yeah," she nods. "She does." She pauses for a second. "Uncle Jim, I think I figured out what I wanted. I was thinking a lot these past few days, and I think I figured out what I really want out of all this."

"Good," he smiles. "I'm happy for you. Now you just gotta get it."

"Is that what I have to do?"

"Are you talking about what I told you that night?"

"Well, duh. You said that once I figured out what I wanted, you'd tell me what to do next."

Jim wipes his face with a washcloth, and walks over to Kathleen, taking both her hands in his. "I'll tell you what you gotta do." He stares into her eyes, holding them with an intense stare. "You gotta want to conquer it more than you want to run away from it. You gotta want to beat it more than you want to cower away from it."

"Uncle Jim, I don't underst…"

He cups her chin in his hand. "You gotta want it more than you fear it."

---

**-10:27am-**

The drive was long and tedious, and the steady rhythm of the car almost put Kathleen to sleep. But Liz, having the habit of talking non-stop when she is nervous, kept Kathleen awake. They park, and they all get out of the car, one by one. Kathleen is last to get out, and she closes the door behind her.

She turns to the big building. Fifth floor. Section three. Office number twelve. That's where she needs to go. Where they all need to go.

Then Kathleen sees the stairs that lead up to the building. The tall, interminable stairs. And inside her head, she laughs, because this is her observation all over again. She's gotta climb these big stairs to get to the next step. She's got to make it to her first session to consider this a successful day.

"Come on, honey," Kathy urges softly, jolting Kathleen out of her reverie.

She walks forward, ready to climb the stairs. Ready to get over the next obstacle.

---  
A/n – well, I always like to hear what you think. So, reviews are appreciated. And, yes, I know I'm being very secretive about Jim Stabler. I mean, with his divorce and Elise and I know the AA thing threw you for a loop. But it will all be explained later. I promise. Just a little mystery. Next chapter will be snippets of the different sessions. Can't wait! Until next chapter, adios. –Jessica


	15. The Doctor Is In

Title: _Beautiful Soul_  
Chapter 15

A/n – Therapy Session 1. It's a little different set-up than the other chapters. I'll swerve in and out among the different people in the sessions with little snippets, but by clues in the writing, you should know who it is. Kathy, Elliot, Maureen, Kathleen, Liz, or Dickie. Very dialogue heavy.

Disclaimer: not mine. Good enough?  
---  
**FBI Headquarters  
Forensic Science Department  
Office of Dr. George Huang  
December 30, 2003  
-10: 35am-**

"You can go right in," says Lisa Koeing, the beautiful brunette secretary of the department. Kathy and Elliot give grateful smiles, and they make it to George's office with kids in tow. George greets them at his door, introducing himself to the Stablers he hasn't met. He sees them smiling at him, but he's not sure whether or not they're there genuinely or out of fear.

But he reciprocates the smiles, and asks who would like to go first. He can see the children almost cower away and Elliot look in any other direction. But Kathy Stabler glances at everybody else, and gives Liz's shoulder a squeeze in front of her. "I'll go," she says bravely, and hands her coat to Elliot.

"Great," George replies, his hands together. "Come on in."

Kathy takes a deep breath, and Kathleen gives her mother a good luck glance. She follows George into his warm office, and tries to focus her attention on anything but his nurturing eyes. On any other day she would find them endearing. But today she finds them almost condescending.

He asks her to take a seat, and she does so with a shaky breath. She had been so worried about the kids that she had no time to be nervous for herself. But the butterflies always seem to make their way to her stomach.

"So…" she starts, breaking the ice.

"So," he replies with a smile.

She laughs, breaking the tension seemingly made of stone in the room. "You'll have to help me out. I've never done this."

He nods understandingly, and breaks a smile. "Well, let's start off simple. Tell me a little about yourself."

She runs a nervous hand through her hair. "Well…I'm thirty-nine. I'm a nurse and I work at Bellevue Hospital, with the premature babies. I have four kids and a husband. Your basic soccer mom, I guess. Work, husband, kids."

"What do you like to do for fun? Do you have a hobby?"

She scoffs lightly at herself and looks away from him. "I don't have a hobby. No time for hobbies."

"What relaxes you then?"

She breathes deeply, trying to figure it all out. She had to grow up so fast; she had to accept the responsibility of a child when she was barely a child herself. And while she loves her children with all her heart, and can't imagine her life without any one of them, she wonders when it was that she lost herself – when it was that she stopped being Katherine Cunningham and formed into Kathy Stabler.

"Not quite sure," she shrugs. "I haven't been truly relaxed in years."

He nods, looking into her crystal eyes. They're a lighter blue than Elliot's but still mesmerizing if time is taken to really capture them. He wonders for a minute if that was the first thing Elliot noticed about her. "How long have you and Elliot been married?"

"Almost twenty years."

"Congratulations. That's certainly something."

_Something._ She just wishes she knew what that _something_ is. "Yeah," she nods. "I guess you could say that."

"So, you were pretty young when you got married."

"Yeah. I had just turned nineteen. Elliot had turned twenty one month after our wedding."

"Why so young?"

"We were unmarried and expecting our first child. Our religion said that was wrong. Our parents said to get married."

"So, you got married because of pressure from your church and your parents?"

Kathy sucks in a deep breath of stale air. "I married him because I was told to. I've stayed because I love him."

---  
"So, Liz, what's your favorite thing to do?"

"Cheerleading," she answers immediately with a smile.

"Cheerleading? Really?" he asks with a voice oozing with intrigue. "What team are you on?"

"Well, our school doesn't have a team, so I'm on this rec team that's by my house. Power Cheer. We're national champions."

"That's quite an accomplishment."

She nods. "I'm hoping that I can be on the school team when I get into high school."

"I'm sure you could do it if you like it that much."

"Yeah," she says, almost to herself.

"What's your favorite subject in school?"

She thinks for a minute. "I don't know. Art, I guess. Mrs. Lewandowski says that I have good perception. Whatever that means."

"It means that you can see things well. You can capture them in your own way and put it on paper." He pauses, staring at her blonde hair that glimmers with a little bit of strawberry. "It really is a gift. So, Liz, what do you and your friends like to do when you're together?"

She stops, wringing her hands, and biting her lip. "Are you sure these are the questions you want to ask me?"

"What questions do you think I should I ask you?"

"Well, I just thought you were going to ask us all these questions about what happened with Kathleen."

He is soft and casual in approach. "Do you _want_ to talk about what happened to Kathleen?"

She crinkles her nose, and pulls on her right shoulder with her left hand, trying to collapse into herself. She shrugs as an answer.

He nods knowingly. "Can we just talk about it a little? If you want to stop, all you have to do is say so. Would that be okay?"

She looks down, nodding almost to herself. "I guess," she mumbles.

"Do you know what happened to Kathleen?"

"Daddy said she was kidnapped. That someone he tried to put in jail tried to hurt her. Kathleen said she was raped, and that the man tried to kill her."

"How do you know all this?"

"I asked them about it. They told me. Well, they told me and Dickie. We were all together."

"Like a family meeting?"

"Yeah, I guess. But Maureen wasn't there."

"So you guys talk about it?"

"Just that once, when we were together. But if I have a question that I really want to ask, Mom and Dad talk to me about it."

"That's really good, Liz, that you guys talk about it together. It might be uncomfortable, but it is good." She nods, looking away. "How close are you to your brother and sisters?"

"Well," she starts, thinking about it. "Dickie and me are close because we're twins, and we're in the same class, and we had our own, like, twin language when we were younger. Me and Maureen are a little close, I guess. I mean, I love her because she's a good sister, but I don't see her as much as I used to before she went to college. And she's almost ten years older than I am. But, like I said, we love each other."

"How close are you to Kathleen?"

"We're really close. She always helps me and teaches me new things. I can talk to her about things that I don't want to talk to Mom or Dad about. I'm really going to hate it when she goes off to college, too." Her voice and her eyes lower with every syllable.

Silence creeps into the crevices of the tiny office, as George tries his best to observe the young Stabler. "Dr. Huang?" questions Liz in a small voice with big eyes.

"Yes, Liz?"

"I don't wanna talk about Kathleen anymore."

---  
"What classes are you taking at Hudson?"

"Well, it's kind of a mess of different classes. You know, a math class, a couple writing and English classes, a psychology course."

"What are you majoring in?"

"When I graduate in the fall, it'll just be with a general major in English. I'll probably go into grad school. But I'm not sure what I want to do. I think I want to write. Maybe teach."

"You seem really passionate about that."

"I like writing. I like studying English. I'm sure if you talked to me about your profession, I'd say the same thing about you."

"Guess you're right," he laughs. She smiles in return, and it reminds him of Kathy. Her eyes are replicas of Kathy's as well. Still like Elliot's, but so much more like Kathy's. He smiles at her.

"If you really want, you can get to what you've been dying to ask. About Kathleen."

"What about Kathleen?"

"We can't ignore the elephant in the room."

He looks at her, studying her. "Do you _want_ to discuss what happened to Kathleen?"

"I thought that's what the session's for."

He nods, and sits back. "Do you know what happened to Kathleen?"

"I haven't asked, so she hasn't told me any details. But I can tell she was raped. Just by the way she moves, the way she responds to things. And, plus, Olivia and SVU are investigating this. It has to involve some sort of sexual assault."

"Do you and Kathleen talk often? Maybe not about her assault, but about everyday things?"

She takes a deep breath, hesitant. "Not as much as we used to. Well, not in a long time. A really long time. When I was in high school, things were strained. I was selfish, I was stupid, and I didn't talk to her all that much. I thought it was uncool to be friends with your baby sister. I guess my going to college made things worse. I never had a chance to set things right before Hudson."

"How was your relationship with her before high school, before Hudson?"

"We were really close. We did everything together. When we were really young, before the twins were born, we were inseparable. I mean, we played together, laughed together, told each other our secrets. And then Liz and Dickie came, so we spent a lot of time with them. But we were still close. Then high school came and that's when it started."

He nods understandingly. "You said that you never had a chance to set things straight before you went to college. What did you want to set straight? What would you have tell her if you had had that chance?"

"I don't know, really. I guess I would've told her sorry."

He leans in a little closer as Maureen's eyes become glassy, filled with tears that have yet to fall. "What would you have said sorry for?"

She swallows all the emotion in her throat that's starting to choke her. "For not being there for her. For pushing her away. For treating her like dirt. For acting like all those years before didn't matter. I would've told her that she really is the best sister I could ask for and that she means so much to me. That my life would be miserable without her."

Silence makes its debut in the session, and Maureen wipes her tears and takes in a deep breath. She wants to leave. She wants to never come back here.

"Do you think Kathleen already knows all that? That she means a lot to you; that you would be miserable without her?"

Maureen looks up him, tears forming once again. "I hope so. I really do. Because I couldn't…I don't want to think…"

"What?" he gently urges.

"If she hadn't lived through the attack, I wouldn't have wanted her to die thinking that I didn't love her like the amazing person and sister she is."

---  
"So, what kind of sports do you play?"

He's a stiff as a board. A mini-Elliot. "I play basketball for my school, but when I get into high school, I wanna play basketball and football. Maybe go back to baseball, too."

"Have you played baseball before?"

"Yeah. I was in a little league team. But, then I really wanted to play basketball. My mom said I should choose one or the other because baseball at the rec center was at the same time as basketball at school. I decided to try something new. But in high school, they're different seasons, so I want to do both of them."

"Are you looking forward to high school?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"What do you do with your friends when you're together?"

"We usually go to the park that's right by my house. Shoot some hoops. Just kinda talk. There's a skateboard park right by there, some of them go there. And there's this little restaurant right there, and we usually get a soda or something."

"How often are you with your friends?"

"I used to hang out with them almost everyday." He shudders, thinking about it. Despite the fact that he doesn't join them anymore, they still go. They still shoot hoops and skateboard, and get sodas, even without him. Just a reminder that life will go on without him. That just because he has stopped doesn't mean other people will.

"Used to?"

"Yeah, I don't go with them all that much anymore."

"Why not?"

"I stay at home more."

George knows they could go around in circles like this for awhile, so he comes out and says what he knows Dickie is waiting for. "Dickie, do you stay at home more because of what happened with Kathleen?"

His eyes jolt in another direction. "Umm…well…"

"It's okay to admit it, Dickie," he says softly. "Something very big has happened to your family. It's okay to feel different than you normally do."

He nods, and George suddenly feels as if the eleven-year-old boy in front of him has aged ten years in the past twenty seconds. "Dr. Huang?"

"Yes?"

"Is it okay to feel like everything's changing? Like…like…maybe…like everything's just going to come out bad?"

George studies the young boy. He wants to tell him that his thoughts are irrational, and everything's just fine. His life is good. He has nothing to worry about. But, he knows he has to admit that this boy's thoughts are the most rational he's heard in a long time.

"You're entitled to your thoughts and opinions," he says, knowing the emotion in his voice is evident.

"But do you think it's right? I mean, not all thoughts are right, and maybe we shouldn't be allowed to think thoughts that are wrong, and…"

George thinks he may be hyperventilating, and puts his hand up to calm him. "Dickie, Dickie…" The boy stops, taking a deep breath. "I think you are very right and I do understand what you are trying to say. You're trying to say that some things are wrong to think of. And you're wondering if what you're thinking is wrong."

Dickie looks up at him and sees George's look of compassion. He gives a small, imperceptible nod, as George continues.

"But what I'm trying to say is that you and your family have been through something very big. This is very life-altering. And it's okay to think anything."

"Dad says I shouldn't be negative."

"And he's very right. You shouldn't be. But you shouldn't try to hide anything either. If you question something, that's okay. If you doubt something, that's okay. If want to know something, that's okay, too. If you think that things are going to change, that's okay. Because they probably are. But what you have to really focus on is how open you are to the changes that will come. You have to focus on adjusting to the changes."

But Dickie just exhales. "But I don't want things to change," he says, his head down and voice small. "I just want my sister back."

---  
"You don't seem like you want to be here."

Kathleen has no real response for him. Because he's right. She's not sure what happened between home and his office. She was so ready to do this. To get better, to let this work for her. But things are just different. She thinks it might have been seeing everyone else's face. Her mom's, Liz's, Maureen's, Dickie's…they all looked so sad, so distraught coming out, and she's thinks it was then that she started questioning things. It was then she thinks that things went downhill.

"I don't."

"Why not?

"I just don't."

George breathes in. "Kathleen, I think I can understand the hostility…"

"No you don't. You don't know anything about me."

He stops. "This would work better if you told me then. Tell me a little about yourself. Maybe what you like to do. What you're interested in. Or we could just get right to the point. What is the real reason you don't want to be here?"

She hates him. But she respects his honesty. His no-bullshit attitude. "You really want to know?"

"You're going to come to find out that I don't ask any questions that I don't want answers to."

She breathes, and she has to get herself so mad so she'll get enough guts to answer him. "I'll tell you why I don't want to be here. It's because you think you know everything. You think you know me and you hadn't even met me before today. I'm not a math problem, don't try to figure me out. I'm not a word problem, don't try to analyze me. Don't try to get me into simplest terms. I'm not lyrics in a song, don't look for a deeper meaning. I barely know who I am, so how can you?"

"I can understand where you're coming from, and I respect that. But will you try to respect my position? Do you think it would be okay if I asked you a couple questions?"

"Under a few conditions…"

"Like…?"

"Don't talk to me like I'm a naïve child, for one, and two, we both know why I'm here. We don't need to sugarcoat it with talking about my favorite sport or my favorite color, or what I like to do with my friends. Let's talk about why I'm really here. My kidnapping and rape. Deal?"

"Deal," he says nodding, and unlike Maureen, Kathleen is a perfect mix of Kathy and Elliot. Looks from Kathy, attitude from Elliot.

"Okay. Well, question away."

He plays to her. "Okay. Well, can you tell me about the attack?"

She stops in her thoughts. "No," she says without emotion.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not ready to talk about it. I haven't even told my parents, and giving my statement to Olivia was like going through it all over again. Telling Liz and Dickie the minimum was terrible. I'm just not ready."

"Do you think perhaps you don't want to tell me because I'm a male…?"

"I'm not retarded! I know not all men are rapists. And I just told you why I didn't want to tell you."

"Okay," he backs off. "Thank you for being honest."

"Yeah. Whatever," she shrugs.

"You mentioned giving your statement to Olivia. How's your relationship with her? Do you have one?"

"Olivia's the best," is all she says. "Don't know where I'd be right now without her."

"How close were you with her before your rape?"

"I just considered her my dad's colleague. I respected her for what she does everyday."

"And now you see her as more?"

"Yeah," she says, "Maybe more like a friend."

"Besides Olivia, who do you consider a friend?"

"I thought we weren't going to talk about my friends…"

"I'm asking in a time like this, after your rape, who do you talk to…besides Olivia?"

"That doesn't matter…"

"It matters more than you think."

She breathes. "Greg."

"And who's Greg?"

"My friend. The one I talk to, besides Olivia, in a time like this, after my rape."

He exhales, and realizes the difficulty of this session. "How long have you known Greg?"

"Since we were about ten."

"How did you meet?"

"At summer camp. And then when we got home, we realized we went to the same school."

"Do you go to the same high school?"

"Yeah. Norman Thomas."

"How often do you see Greg now?"

"I think now you're breaking our deal of not talking about my friends."

"Okay. Then tell me why you don't want to talk about them."

"I already told you. We don't need to sugarcoat this session. We both know what we need to talk about."

"But you won't tell me anything else about what happened. So, what do want to talk about?"

She looks up at him, and finally, she sees his compassionate eyes. She lets out a staggered breath and leans back into the couch. "I don't see Greg much. But before, I saw him all the time."

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"Christmas night."

He can see the chills forming on her skin. "What happened when you saw him?"

"He gave me flowers. Tulips and roses. And he gave me a really gorgeous gold bracelet."

"Anything else? What did you guys talk about?"

"We didn't talk much."

"Then what happened?"

She looks down, away from his eyes. "He kissed me."

He nods. "Do you consider that a good thing?"

She manages to crack a smile. "It certainly wasn't bad."

He gives a small laugh. "So, that was it? He gave you flowers and kissed you?"

"And he told me I looked beautiful." She chokes back everything in her throat.

He picks up on it. Years of experience have taught him how. "Do you consider _that_ a good thing?"

She looks up, tears starting to form, and she licks her lips. "I just wished I believed it."

---  
"How are you holding up?"

"How do you think I'm holding up?"

"You look tired."

"I haven't slept in a few days. I am tired."

Silence starts and Elliot looks at George. Like he's pleading for something. Like only George holds the answer he's looking for.

"How are my kids?" he asks, so raw with emotion.

"You know what they say to me is privileged."

"I didn't ask what they said. I asked if they were okay."

"I'll give you my comments and suggestions when all the evaluations are done. This is your session. Let's talk about you."

"You pretty much know everything about me already."

"No I don't. I know Detective Stabler. Tell me about Elliot."

"He's just a regular guy, I guess."

He nods, knowing that just like Kathleen, he could go in circles all day. "You're off of work right now, right?"

"Yeah."

"Do you know when you're going back?"

"No. It's all a crapshoot."

"Do you want to go back?"

"I need to spend some time at home with my family. I guess we'll go from there."

He nods. "Do the kids like having you at home more?"

He shrugs. "You'd have to ask them."

"Do _you_ like it?"

"I don't like the reason why I'm not working. But I like seeing them more. Driving them to school or to practice, kissing them before they leave, tucking them in. But I hate seeing my daughter like she is."

"That's understandable." He shifts in his seat. "How's the press?"

He exhales. "There were a lot around our house the first weeks, but they've died down. They took off for Christmas, and not many have been back since then. Thank God."

"How did the rest of your family respond to them?"

"Kathy pretty much avoided them as much as she could, but she wasn't afraid of them. They made Liz really nervous and Dickie tried to ignore them. Same with Maureen."

"What about Kathleen?"

He shrugs. "Indifferent, I guess. I mean, she didn't want them there, but she didn't try to get rid of them. She just avoided them the best she could."

"Why do you think that was?"

"She understood that they were there for a story. That she's news now. She may not like it, but she lives with it. I guess she's got bigger fish to fry than worrying about people with cameras. And I think she had a certain respect for them. I know that sounds weird."

"What do you mean when you say respect?"

"She wanted to be a journalist when she was younger."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She used to take my notebook out of my jacket and get a crayon, and go around, interviewing us. And she used to watch the news with us just to see the anchors." George knows it's small, but he can see his smile starting to form.

"Does she still want to be a journalist?"

"No," he shakes his head. "She met Olivia. And then she wanted to be a cop."

"How old was she?"

"A little younger than Liz. She begged everyday to come to stationhouse with me so she could watch Olivia work."

He smiles at his memory. "Does Olivia know about this?"

"Probably not."

He nods. "Well, what does she want to be now?"

"A molecular biologist who specializes in genetics." He smiles for a little bit. "Took me a month to say it right. She took this extra science course for credit, and she really liked it." His smile disappears, and he gets up, starting to pace.

"What's wrong?"

He stops, looking out the small window in George's office. "This is all my fault."

"What is?"

"All this. What happened to Kathleen. What's happening to my family."

"No, it's not."

"Yes! It is! I was the one who had to go after Sanchez. I was the one who blew a gasket, and my daughter had to pay for that! Don't tell me it's not my fault. Because if it's not mine, whose is it?"

"Sanchez's."

He shakes his head vigorously. "No. It's mine. I wasn't there to protect her. I wasn't there to prevent it."

"Do you blame yourself for every rape you didn't prevent? When a victim comes in and says they've been raped, do you automatically blame yourself because you didn't do anything to stop it?"

"I do when I know I could've stopped it."

"How could you have stopped what happened to Kathleen?"

He breathes. "I'm her father," he forces out. "I'm supposed to stop everything bad from happening to her."

"You know that's unrealistic. You know there are things you can't prevent your kids from."

"I know that," he shoots back. He shakes, putting his head in his hands. "But this…I…my promise was broken."

"What promise?"

He breathes in all the oxygen he can, trying to convince himself that the cold, shrill air won't kill his insides. "The promise that my job would only help my family. That my job would never harm my kids."

---  
George finishes writing on the evaluation papers, and walks outside to the waiting room. Liz Stabler is curled into Kathleen, asleep. Kathleen stares out the window, stroking her sister's hair. Maureen reads a magazine, and Dickie seems lost in thought. Kathy and Elliot sit next to each other, having their own quiet conversation. They stop when George walks out.

He invites them in, and they accept, leaving their children in the small room. They walk into the office, which hold different meanings for all of them. They all take a seat and Kathy speaks.

"So, how'd they do?"

George leans back into his chair and gives a smile. "You've got some great kids."

Kathy and Elliot laugh together. "Yeah," they answer in unison.

"That's it?" Elliot asks.

"Well…" he leans forward, taking the papers. "They have all have a very mature understanding of what's happening. Especially Liz and Dickie. And they seem very eager to talk about it, to the right people of course, and to look for some answers." They nod, taking in the information. "But we know this was just an evaluation, and they're all going to need more than this one meeting to keep up that mindset."

"So, we just keep coming back to you?" Elliot questions.

"As much as I loved talking to them, I'm not specialized in children. And I think for Liz and Dickie to get the best beneficial results out of therapy sessions, they need to see a child psychiatrist. I've already talked to Elizabeth Olivet and she said she'd be more than happy to see them as clients."

Kathy nods as a thank you and George continues. "And she said she'd be happy to see Kathleen as well."

Elliot shoots a glare at him. "Kathleen's not a child."

"Yes, I know that, Elliot. But I think it'll be more beneficial to Kathleen to see Dr. Olivet as well."

"But, she's not…" Elliot starts, but Kathy interrupts, saving her husband from yelling more.

"I think what Elliot's trying to ask…" she says, looking at him with a warning. "Did Kathleen just not respond to you?"

George thinks back to his session with Kathleen. She was a little hostile, but in the end, she opened up to him. "She responded," he answers truthfully, "But I think it'll be easier for her to talk to Dr. Olivet, especially since she's a…"

"She's a woman," Kathy completes.

George nods. "It's not obvious that she's uncomfortable with me because I'm a male, but it shows. She may deny it, but it could be happening without her knowing."

"Like subconsciously?"

"Yes. Exactly."

Kathy breathes. "Okay," she says. "What about Maureen? Us?"

"You guys can continue with me. That is, if you'd like to."

They nod, and before either of them can stop themselves, they've scheduled sessions for them all.

---  
A/n – okay, well, how did you like it? I want to do anther chapter like this later on, but only if you guys enjoyed it. So, let me know.

And yes, I know the twins are older than eleven right now, but keep in mind, I started this a long time ago, and it's set just about two years ago where the twins were around eleven, and Kathy and Elliot were married. Yes, I know Kathleen goes to Glen Oaks in the show, but I mentioned Norman Thomas in a previous chapter, before I knew, and I have to stay consistent. Okay, so I'm done. Let me know what you thought. Until next chapter, adios! –Jessica


	16. Gotta Get Away

Title: _Beautiful Soul_  
Chapter 16

**A/N****– FOR SOME REASON, THE DOCUMENT MANAGER DIDNT SAVE A PORTION OF MY CHAPTER. SO, I EDITED. THERE WAS MUCH MORE TO THE ORIGINAL CHAPTER. PLEASE READ AGAIN:)**

Well, I don't really like this chapter as much as I would like to. It's just sort of a chapter to get the ball rolling again with the plot. Because after this chapter, it's all downhill from here. I didn't get to do New Year's at the Stablers', but many of you wanted to get back to Olivia and Kathleen. I tried to give you some of that in here, and towards the end of the fic, there will be plenty of it. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine.  
---  
**Stabler Residence  
January 2, 2004  
-4:22am-**

It's still cold outside, and Kathleen shivers, even with two thick blankets and a quilt around her. She holds the phone close to her ear, thinking hopefully that it will provide the smallest bit of warmth somehow, but it doesn't help. Another sleepless night. Another early morning phone call. Another conversation with her hero.

The phone rings three times. "Benson," the groggy voice comes.

"Olivia?"

"Hey, kid," she says, getting up out of her sleep. Out of the tiniest solace sleep gives her.

"I need to get out of here."

Olivia rubs the sleep out of her eyes, pushing the covers away from her. "What do you mean?"

"I need to get out of here," Kathleen repeats, thinking the mantra will somehow comfort her. "I need to get out of here."

"Out of where, honey? Out of your house? Out of your room?"

"All of it. Out of New York."

Olivia gets up, pacing. "Alright. You gotta rewind for me. I don't know what you're talking about."

"I can't stay here, Olivia. I need to get out for a little while. I need to clear my head. This place is just…it's just too…I don't know. It's too something. And I need to get away from it all. Especially before the trial."

She sits back on her bed. "Okay," Olivia says slowly. "If not here, where?"

A deep breath can be heard. "Miami."

Olivia thinks, wondering what's in Miami. Why there and no where else? "Okay-"

"Uncle Jim said I could go there if I need to. And I need to. I don't know how much more of this I can handle without a break."

"Kathleen, you gotta take a breath." She can hear Kathleen slow down.

"You have to understand. I need a break. I don't think I can do this anymore."

She should've known. She should've seen it. Of course, a detective of her experience can handle the stress of rapists and murderers, and pure evil day after day. But, she realizes now it's far too much to ask of a sixteen-year-old girl, no matter who her father is.

"Oh kiddo, I understand. I do, really."

Breaths slow down, tears speed up. "I don't think I can do this, Oliv-" A sob replaces the ending of the name.

"You can, kiddo. I know you can. You're right, you just need a break." Silence comes up, something they have come to know very well. Olivia rubs her temple, and scratches the back of her neck. "Honey, don't do this now. Don't quit on me now. After everything. We're so close, kid. We're so close. Don't give up. Please don't give up."

Kathleen sniffles, wiping away the tears, hoping it'll take along some of the fear along with it.

"I'm trying. I'm really trying, Olivia. I really am…"

"And you're doing a great job. You really are. But you don't want to stop now. I know you don't. You just need a break. That's all." Olivia stops, thinking all of it is done. That Kathleen will just quit, and she couldn't blame her. "That's all," she whispers, repeats to herself.

"I wish I knew what to say."

"You tell your parents you want to go to Miami. Have you talked to them yet at all?"

"No." She tucks her hair behind her free ear. "Do you think they'll let me?"

"Yeah." _I hope so. I still need you, kid. At this point, I need you more than you need me._ "How could they not?"

"Olivia?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"I really don't want to quit."

"I know," she barely gets out in a whisper. "I know you don't."

"God, I'm just a wreck, Olivia. An emotional wreck." She manages to sob out a laugh, running her hand through her hair.

"With good reason," Olivia responds, forcing out a smile. Like the smile Kathleen can't see will make her feel better.

"You won't give up on me, will you?"

"Oh honey," Olivia says, lying back into her bed. "Never."

---  
**-11:47am-**

Kathleen walks into the kitchen discreetly, leaning against the entrance from the living room. She watches her parents for a little bit. They prepare lunch quietly together, barely talking, and Kathleen wonders if it's because they know each other well enough that they don't have to talk, or if they don't talk because they can't. Because after almost twenty years, there's nothing more to say and they're slowly going downhill.

She wishes she didn't see it in their eyes, but she does. That lackluster. That dullness. Like even though they love each other, things have changed so drastically over the past years, that they'll never be the same. She knows that her parents are different people than they were years ago, she just wishes that the changes would stop coming.

"Hey," she says coolly, sitting in one of the dining room chairs, facing her parents.

Elliot passes Kathy the plates as he looks up. "Hey, kid. I thought you were going to sleep in today."

She shrugs as she sees her mom smile at her. "Guess not."

Kathy begins to cut the different apples. Kathleen and her father like green. Kathy and the twins like red. "Lunch is almost ready."

Kathleen nods, wringing her hands. "Yeah," she whispers to herself.

She wants to tell them. To ask them. To just surrender to everything. To break down and tell them she quits. She doesn't want to do this anymore. She needs to get away.

"You okay?" Kathy asks, arranging the food on the plates, setting out napkins.

Kathleen shrugs, and Kathy freezes. Elliot stops pouring the drinks and looking up at his daughter. "What's going on?"

She closes her eyes and imagines herself on a calm, relaxing beach. A beach. There are beaches in Miami.

"I need to get out of New York for a little while."

It's so silent that Kathleen's ears begin to hurt. Kathy puts down the knife she's been using to cut the apples and walks over to her daughter. She sees her eyes, so desperate for a chance of relaxation. And even though she doesn't completely understand or know any of the details, she sympathizes, and wants to give her daughter everything she craves. Just like any mother would.

"Okay," she begins slowly, and Elliot comes up behind her. "Where do you want to go?"

Kathleen stares at her mother, all signs of lackluster and dullness seemingly gone. "Miami. Uncle Jim says I can stay with him."

Elliot sighs, rubbing his eyes. "Can I ask why?"

"Why do you think?" Kathleen counters. "I need a break, Dad! I need to clear my head. I can't stay here anymore." She looks up, catching his eyes. She breathes, looking down. "Daddy, please let me go. Please. I don't think I can keep up this pace here. I need a break."

Elliot sighs, taking a seat of his own. He looks at his wife, her pleading eyes matching with his daughter's. "How long would you want to go for?"

Kathleen looks up at him, hope shimmering in her eyes that have been filled with despair since she got home. "Just until before the trial." Kathy and Elliot look at each other, and Kathleen jumps in again. "I can go back with Uncle Jim when he leaves, and I'll come back in time to testify when Casey needs me."

"Honey, it's not that I want to shoot you down, I hope you know that, but a round trip to Miami isn't exactly cheap…"

"Who said you guys would be paying for it?" comes the familiar voice of Jim Stabler. He walks into the kitchen, and digs his hands into his pockets. "This one's on me."

Elliot looks at his brother. "Jim…"

"No, don't put up a fight, okay? My niece wants this. And I was the one who invited her."

He gets up out of his seat, making his way to his brother. "Come on, Jim, don't…"

"Don't what? Don't give my niece something she wants – something she seems to need?"

"She's _my_ daughter…"

"Then you should know that she does need to clear her head. She needs to get out of here for a little while. And here I am, offering you that opportunity…"

"Okay, boys, let's calm down," Kathy chimes in.

"And don't talk about me like I'm not here," Kathleen says, looking up at the men.

"Elliot, you know she's going to be in good hands with me. I'm going to take good care of her." He stares at his brother, eye to eye. "I want to do this. Please let me do this," he says in a hoarse whisper. "For her."

He moves closer to Kathleen, putting his hands on her shoulders.

Elliot looks at Kathy, and she gives a small nod as her approval. He crosses his arms and looks at Kathleen. "Well, kid…looks like you've got some packing to do."

---

"Detective Benson, Special Victims Unit," Olivia answers at her desk.

"Did she talk to you last night?" Elliot asks, getting right to what he needs to know.

"Elliot? Who did I talk to? What are talking about?"

"Kathleen! Did she talk to you last night? Did she talk to you about going to Miami?"

Olivia scratches her head, throwing down the pen in her hand. "Why would it matter?"

"I want to know. I want to know how oblivious I am to what my daughter wants and needs."

"I talked to her, Elliot. But I promised her that whatever she says to me, no matter how stupid, is in confidence. Don't ask me to break that. Please don't ask me to break that."

He sighs, wiping his hand over his face. "I just…I can't believe I didn't see it."

"She's been hiding it well. She's trying to be so strong, and she just can't do it anymore."

"I should've known, though."

"You know now, and that's all that matters."

"I'm letting her go," he says in a whisper.

Olivia nods. "Good."

"How bad do you think she needs this?"

"She needs a break, Elliot. She's seen our world, been into it, and experienced it. We can handle it, but asking her to do the same is a lot. She needs a breather."

"You're wrong." He breathes, and Olivia begins to wonder. "_I_ can't handle it anymore."

Olivia sighs. "I-I-I don't know what to say to that. I mean, of course there are days you can't handle it, but…"

"No," he insists. "I think I'm done, Olivia. I think once this trial is over, I'll be transferring somewhere else. Somewhere where the victims won't remind me of my daughter and the pain I caused her."

"Elliot…"

"Goodbye, Liv."

It clicks, and Olivia wonders if the goodbye was final. Was it goodbye to the squad? To their partnership? Was it just a polite courtesy to end a conversation? Was it goodbye to the life they once knew?

---  
**JFK Airport  
January 4, 2004  
-8:03am-**

"You got your bathing suit?" asks Jim.

"Yeah," Kathleen giggles. "You told me about ten times to bring it."

"Well, it's not freezing in Miami during winter like it is here. And we got this new pool that the kids are obsessed with, and Isabel goes in there everyday. It's heated, and she's going to drag you in there with her, for sure."

She smiles. "Well, I brought two."

They laugh once again, and Kathleen looks around the crowded airport. Couples huddled together, kids running around, parents chasing the said kids, families with matching luggage finding the right terminal, businessmen and businesswomen on their cell phones telling their secretaries they're moving as fast as they can, and then she watches her own family.

They're all sitting together, with the bags in between the rows of chairs they share. Isabel plays with Kathy's hair, twisting it and twirling it, giggling the entire time. Joey and Dickie play cards, while Liz and Maureen read a magazine together. Kathleen gets up, walking over to her mother and Isabel, and begins playing with her cousin's perfect curls.

Elliot sits with his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. Jim leans over the row, glancing only for a moment at his daughter, niece, and sister-in-law.

"She really is going to be okay," he almost whispers.

Elliot looks up, face to face with his older brother. The same older brother who taught him how to fight and throw a good punch when he was twelve; who threw a football around with him before he left for college; who showed him how to talk to girls without stuttering; who stuck up for him when he had to tell his father about getting Kathy pregnant; his best man, his daughter's godfather, one of his best friends.

And now as he looks at his older brother, he wants nothing more than to forget he even exists. He is the one his daughter trusts more than her own father. He is the one who is taking his daughter away from him. He is the one that is his daughter's saving grace. And Elliot can't stand it. He's the one that's supposed to protect her and rescue her. He's the one that's supposed to have the answers and the solutions.

He knows he shouldn't do this here. He knows it could get ugly, but he fights him anyway. "I'm sure she will."

Jim breathes, looking at his younger brother. The brother that has always been better than him. "Look, Elliot, I don't know…"

"You don't know what, Jim?" he asks, almost accusingly.

"I don't know what you want me to say about this," he retorts instantly.

"You can say whatever the hell you want to say about it. It won't make one damn bit of difference."

"Why are so mad with me? I'm just trying to make things better…"

"That's not your job! It's not your job to make things better for my daughter. That's my job. That's my wife's job."

Kathy stares at them at the sound of her title, but Isabel jumps back to her, giggling, and Kathy catches her. "If you boys are going to keep it up, take it outside, would you?" she says in the middle of her niece's giggle-fits.

Jim and Elliot share another glance and each look down, reminiscent of days when their mother would chastise them. "Look, Elliot…"

"No. This is my job. I'm the one that supposed to…"

"It's not that easy for her, Elliot! It's not that easy to talk to you when you're like this."

"Like what?"

"Closed-off, pissed off, mad, upset, raging. How can you expect your daughter to come to you like that?"

Elliot gives him a glare, hating the fact that he knows his brother his right, and rubs a hand over his head. He breathes, regretting the last couple minutes, his last couple comments.

"Just give her some time, little brother. Maybe this will be good for the both of you. It will give you a chance to clear your heads, and when she gets back, you guys can try this again from a new mindset."

Elliot nods, and sticks out his hand, as a peace offering. Jim takes his hand, shaking it, as the perky voice of a flight attendant says, "Now boarding for Flight 78 to Miami."

Kathleen, as well as everyone else gets up and begins to say goodbye. Liz almost suffocates her sister with the hug she gives her; Maureen gives a reassuring smile and a comforting hug; Dickie does his famous handshake with her; her mom brushes the hair out of her face, kisses her cheek, gives her a hug, and wishes her the best. She reminds her to call her as often as she can, and then her dad begins his temporary goodbye.

He takes her into his arms, stroking her back, kissing her head. "Have a great time, honey."

"You'll call me if anything comes up, right?"

He gives a small smile. "Absolutely." He kisses her head again. "Just have a good time, and remember why you're down there."

She nods, and gets a final group hug. They start to leave, and Kathleen picks up one of Isabel's bags to help her. She follows her uncle and her cousins, but looks back one more time. They all begin to wave, and she smiles back, hoping there will be some sign telling her that what she's doing is the right thing. She needs a sure message that she's on the right track.

She mouths a "thank you" to her mom and dad, and walks forward, hoping she will still find that sign.

---  
**Jim Stabler's Residence  
Miami, Florida  
January 5  
-7:35pm- **

They park the car in front of the gorgeous two-story pearly white house. It reminds her of home, so it makes her a little homesick. But she tries to forget her doubts and remember why she wanted to come in the first place.

Joey and Isabel race to the front door and Jim gets out of his side of the car. He walks around to the passenger's seat, opening her door. She smiles, shaking out of her reverie, and steps out of the Jeep. They walk up together, and Jim unlocks the door. The kids seem excited to be back home, as they begin shouting for their dog and other pets. But Kathleen stands in the seemingly massive living room, and stares around.

"Jade!" yells Isabel. "Jade, where are you!"

"Isabel," Jim stops her calmly. "Why don't you go look for the dog instead of screaming for her, okay?"

She smiles, wrapping him around her finger all over again. "You got it, dude!" She scampers off, calling out the dog's name.

"And stop watching Full House," Jim whispers to himself when Isabel is out of sight. Kathleen laughs and Jim looks up at her. "Well, kid, you're here. You want a tour?"

"Sure," she smiles.

He does the entire tour from where he's standing. "Well…this is the living room, that's the kitchen, that's the TV, your room is right next to Isabel's and it has it's own bathroom with a shower, towels, soap, shampoo…and the movie collection is tucked away in that cabinet. Well, I think I covered everything important…" He stops, putting his finger to his chin, trying to think, and Kathleen giggles at him. "Oh! And the pool's outside. But I'm sure Izzy will show you that."

She nods, smiling. "Thanks. It really is a nice place."

"I do what I can." He stops, sitting down on the couch and stares at all the bags that need unpacking. "Listen, I promised Elise I'd drop the kids by her place so she can see them for a little while. You want to come?"

"Really?"

"Yeah," he nods. "I'm sure she'd be happy to see you."

"I'd be happy to see her."

"Kids! Go change, freshen up! I'm going to take you to your mom's for a little bit."

"Yay!" Isabel yells. "Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy…" she mutters to herself as she runs.

Jim stops her, picking her up. "Okay, honey, you have to calm down a little, okay? I know you slept on the plane, but try to take a breath every now and then."

She giggles. "Okie dokie, smokie pokie." Jim puts her down and she's off and running.

Kathleen laughs. "She's too cute."

Jim manages a laugh. "She's perpetual motion. Never stops."

"You sure they won't need a nap before they go out again?"

"My kids? Take a nap? Yeah, that's a good one."

Kathleen crosses her legs as she sits on the couch, and stares at all the pictures around the house. It reminds her of home, with all the pictures of her siblings, the vacations, the games and recitals, the holiday pictures they take every year. Jim sits down next to her, putting his arm around her.

"I keep thinking that this was a big mistake," she confesses willingly. "I mean, what if something goes wrong with the grand jury and they need me early…"

"They said they'd call if they needed you." He pauses, stroking her shoulder. "Just try to relax, okay? That's why you're down here."

"Yeah, I know…"

"Daddy! I'm ready!" Isabel calls.

Jim laughs, and gets up. "Okay, kid! Joey, you ready? Let's go!"

---  
**Elise Stabler and Benjamin Stanfield's Residence  
Miami, Florida  
-8:04pm-**

"Mommy!" Joey and Isabel yell in unison as they run up the driveway to their mom waiting at the front door. Kathleen stays back at the car with her uncle, but follows him as he approaches the house slowly.

"There are my little chicks," Elise Stabler says as her kids fall into her arms.

It reminds Kathleen of her first days of school. Kathy always waited at the front door as the bus pulled up. And then she chastises herself for making everything remind her of home when the purpose of her being here was to forget.

The kids laugh and giggle, hug and kiss all around, happy to see their mom.

"Oh, I missed you guys so much!" she says to them, hugging them tighter. She pulls them away, saying, "How about you guys go say hi to Ben? He missed you, too."

The kids race inside, and Elise's smile is still glued on. It reminds Kathleen of her mom; it reminds Jim of a life he had to leave behind, of Sunday mornings when he would wake up to that same smile. Elise looks up, and sees her ex-husband, and her smile slowly fades. He acknowledges him politely. "Jim," she nods.

"Elise," he responds, his hands in his pockets.

"Thanks for bringing them by. I really missed them," she says as one of many peace offerings.

"They really missed you." He looks down, and Kathleen swears she sees him kick the small pebbles beneath his foot. "Thanks for letting me take them. I think they enjoyed it."

She nods, with a small smile, and leans against her doorway. "So, who's this?" she asks with polite intrigue.

"Aunt Elise?" Kathleen says, with a smile.

Elise's eyes go wide with recognition, and she smiles. She uncrosses her arms, and stands straight in front of the young woman who had ribbons in her hair and a soccer ball in her hand last time she saw her.

"Kathleen Stabler? Is that you?"

"In the flesh," Kathleen laughs with a slight blush.

"Come here and give me a hug," she says, moving forward with her arms outstretched.

Kathleen complies, wrapping her arms around the woman she's loved since the day she met her; a woman her uncle will never stop loving.

"You look good. You look really good," she says, pulling Kathleen away from the hug to get a good look at her. For she has seen the news, too, and only imagines what she's been through.

"Thank you," she blushes more. "You look pretty good yourself."

Elise laughs, and rubs Kathleen's shoulder. "Why don't you guys come on in? Can I get you anything to drink?"

Kathleen walks into the beautiful house and thinks immediately of her own home. "Umm…no thank you." "No thanks."

"Make yourself at home…"

"Mommy? Guess what? Joey and I went into that big lady with the light, and Joey tried to push me but I didn't let him, and then Daddy took a picture of us, and then he let me take my own pictures because he gave me my own camwa…he called it a despo…desper-able…"

"Disposable," Elise says with a smile, still listening intently to her daughter.

"That's what I said. And then we went to this big, huge, gigantic park that had all these pretty plants, and I wanted to pick you a flower, but Daddy said it would pwobably die by the time we got back here, and then we went shopping! And I got you some stuff. And Daddy bought me this…"

Kathleen lets everything fade out slowly. Isabel's rushed retellings of days spent in a place that must seem like a palace to a six-year-old; meeting Ben, Elise's fiancé, a man who wouldn't know casual dress if it bit him; catching up with her aunt, who hasn't changed in years. It all just goes to the back of her brain, and she remembers her family. They'd be finishing cleaning up the dishes, and watching TV together. She tries not to remember them, but she can't help it. She can't help thinking that coming down here was all mistake, and she came to the wrong place for help.

They begin to leave, the kids getting exhausted from reliving the past week and a half. Jim offers to let them crash with their mother, but Elise stands next to him. "Why don't you take them for a couple more nights? After vacation ends, they won't have much to time to see you," she suggests.

Jim looks down, nodding to himself. "Yeah," he whispers. "Thanks."

Elise opens her mouth to say something, but closes it. She squeezes his shoulder. "They had a really great time, Jim. They're going to remember this forever."

He doesn't respond, just nods to Kathleen to get ready to leave. Kathleen shifts the sleeping Isabel in her arms and walks over to her aunt and uncle.

"And you," she says, brushing Kathleen's hair out of her face. "You take care of yourself. If you need anything…even if you're back in New York…"

"Thanks," Kathleen whispers. "I appreciate it."

"I'm glad we could catch up."

"Me, too."

They all say goodbyes, and Kathleen lays Isabel in the backseat with the drowsy Joey. She gets in the passenger seat, and can see her uncle deflate from the façade he had to put up for the past hour. She puts her hand on his knee as a sign of comfort, and he looks at her.

He rubs his hand over her cheek and smiles. "Thanks, kid."

---  
**Stacey's Stables  
Miami, FL  
January 7, 2004  
-10:04am-**

"You really didn't have to come all the way down here for her lesson," Jim tells Kathleen, as they walk around the stables, killing time as Isabel rides.

"I know," she shrugs. "But she seemed really excited about coming, and I wanted to see her ride."

They walk around the grounds, looking at the different surroundings, and everything Kathleen sees reminds her of home. She tries to steer her thoughts in any other direction, but nothing helps. She talks so she doesn't have to think, but it doesn't work. Her family, her friends, Greg, and Olivia take up residence in her mind and Kathleen thinks they won't leave until she gets back to New York.

"Hey Jim!" calls somebody from behind. They turn to see a man, coming out of a barn, who looks like he works at the stables.

"Hey!" Jim calls back.

"You mind helping me with something? I need an extra pair of hands," asks the man. They move closer, and Kathleen sees his nametag – Max.

"Sure," he replies. He and Kathleen walk into the barn, and she sees the big bunches of hay and piles of wood.

"Just too heavy to do it on my own," explains the man, looking down at all the materials.

"No problem. Whatever you need," says Jim, bending down.

Kathleen gets out of their way, and looks down the barn. There are about five different horses in the stables, each one a different breed and shade of brown, black, and white. Kathleen walks down the path, the loose hay crunching beneath her feet. She sees one horse look at her, and she stops in front of it.

It's a shade of brown reminiscent of chocolate, and she reaches her hand out, petting its face. It neighs and she jumps a tiny bit, scared of the sound. But she keeps her hand on it, scratching behind its ears. The horse nudges her hand when she stops, and Kathleen can't help but smile.

Jim puts down the final piece of wood where Max has asked him to put it. He wipes his brow, and searches for his niece. He sees her smiling, and his heart does a little flip, making him smile as well. He sees the connection between her and the horse and begins to walk towards her, curious to see the reason for her happiness.

Max stops loading, being captivated by the two. He jumps down from his truck and walks towards them, taking off his work gloves. "Her name's Sadie," he says, staring at Kathleen's big blue eyes.

Kathleen strokes the horse's face again, and looks at Max. "That's a pretty name," she smiles.

"Yeah, my wife named her after her sister. Her eyes are that same color brown."

Kathleen studies the horse more, and the memory of Olivia's chocolate eyes is burned into her brain. "She's beautiful," she breathes.

"I got her about six years ago. She's my miracle baby."

Kathleen pats the space under Sadie's eyes. "What do you mean?"

"She belonged to a man in Georgia before I bought her. He abused her; abused all his animals. He poured acid on her."

Kathleen stops dead, her blood running cold. Her uncle puts his hand on her back, noticing her body tensing. She immediately sees the horse's side, stained by an act of human violence; much like she herself is.

Max continues. "My wife insisted I buy her. Some say I was crazy for getting her, but I said I'd really be crazy if I didn't listen to my wife."

He laughs a burly laugh, and Kathleen forces out a small smile to please him.

"I didn't think she'd be able to walk well, let alone trot, but my daughter took her to about twenty different equestrian competitions in the past few years, and retired her about three months ago."

"Wow," is all Kathleen can manage to get out.

"Yep," Max agrees. "Like I said, she's my miracle." He sees Kathleen's eyes widen as she stares at the horse. "Hey," he says enthusiastically, "You wanna take her for a ride?"

Kathleen stares at Max, and then at her uncle. "Oh…um…thanks, but I don't ride. I don't even know how to get up on a horse…"

"It's real easy. I'll show you," he offers. "Sadie hasn't been out for a good ride in awhile."

Kathleen opens her mouth to protest, but she looks at the horse intently. It neighs, and she strokes the horse again. Her heart beats ten times as fast, and Kathleen feels a connection to an animal. Of all things to feel attached to, Kathleen feels immediately bonded with a horse. Her heart can't help but go out to Sadie. Something that has felt the same pain she has.

"Okay." Sadie nudges her again, and she smiles. "Yeah, I'll go."

The air moves freely through her hair as she moves with Sadie. All thoughts of home, the case, the trial, and her problems don't cross her mind. She manages a smile during the exhilarating ride and is surprised how strong Sadie is. How she was so hurt and pained and broken, yet so strong.

The connection she feels with Sadie is strong and she knows people may think she's weird for feeling so attached to a horse, but she doesn't care. She hasn't felt this good and this free in awhile, and she enjoys every second.

"So, how do you know her?" Max asks Jim as they watch Sadie and Kathleen ride along the circular trail.

Jim looks at him. "I'm her uncle," he states simply.

Max nods. "I'm surprised she's out and about. If I was her, I don't know if I'd leave my house for months."

Something grabs Jim, and he looks at Max. "Wait…what…how…what do you mean?"

"Just because I move hay and wood, and work with animals doesn't make me stupid. I've seen the news. And this girl is big news."

Jim nods, looking down. Bringing Kathleen to Miami was supposed to free her from all the stress.

"It's supposed to be therapeutic."

"What?"

"Doing what she's doing. She's making a connection with something that knows the same kind of pain she does. And she's letting herself heal that way – by sharing that pain, by knowing something else has gone through what she has."

Jim cocks his head, looking at Max, surprised.

"What?" he asks, as he sees Jim staring at him. "My wife was a sexual assault nurse for twenty years. When she retired, she got trained and worked as a volunteer counselor at an Advocacy Center for children. She brought the real damaged ones here, and they'd ride Sadie."

Jim sees Max as the man with his guard down, as Max continues. "She'd call me to tell me they were coming, and I'd meet them out by the barn. I'd show them how to get up on it, how to ride it. And I'd see their eyes. They'd be so…so damaged, you know? And when I saw her eyes, it reminded me of all those kids, and I thought maybe…"

"Thank you," Jim manages to whisper. "That means a lot."

"She's gonna be okay," Max says. "I can tell by those baby blues of hers. She looks like some of those kids, but I see something in her I didn't see in them."

"And what's that?"

"Hope."

---  
A/N – This is one of five chapters I have completely written. Hopefully, I haven't lost too many of you. Happy reading! Thanks. – Jessica


	17. Under Fire

Title: Beautiful Soul  
Chapter 17

**A/N** – Just a continuance sort of thing.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Not any SVU things, not Candy-Land, not Monopoly.

---  
**Office of ADA Casey Novak  
DA's Office  
Manhattan, NY  
January 9, 2004  
-10:35am-**

"Send him up," Casey says into the phone when the receptionist tells her that Trevor Langdon is in the building to see her.

She waits patiently, wondering what the hell Trevor could want with her. Jury selection doesn't begin until the fourteenth, and the grand jury begins soon after that. She doesn't want to discuss the trial and the case right now, but what else could he possibly be here for?

There's a gentle knock on the door, and Casey's replies, "Come on in, Trevor."

The tall man enters the office, and Casey can't help but feel small in stature as she stands next to him. She looks up at him with a questioning glance.

"What do want?"

"Now, why the hostility, Casey? I just came here to talk," he says, his voice oozing with charm.

"Right," Casey replies, unsure.

"And, well, I wanted to give you this."

Langdon hands over a blue folded stack of papers that looks all too familiar to Casey from all her other cases. It's just another reminder that as much as she doesn't want it to be, this trial has to proceed like any other one she has prosecuted.

"It's a motion to suppress the line-up."

"Are you serious?" Casey asks in shock. "On what grounds?"

"It was tainted," he shrugs.

"How the hell was it tainted?" she asks, her blood boiling.

"Oh, Casey. Don't get too worked up on this, now…"

"Don't talk to me like I'm five. How was this line-up tainted?"

"Detective Benson talked…"

"Are you still on that harassment claim against her? Because you know that any judge in his right mind would throw that out and laugh at you."

"It's pending," he says, stone-faced. "But, no, this has nothing to do with that. Detective Benson interrogated Julio Sanchez, and then she went to prep Miss Stabler for the line-up. I was there, Casey, and I can tell you that they talked for approximately five minutes in the hallway of the station before the line-up began. And then Miss Stabler comes into the line-up and chooses my client. Does that sound like a coincidence?"

"Trevor, you know this is bogus. That line-up was not tainted."

"I guess we'll have to let Petrovsky decide that, won't we?"

"Trevor…"

"This is the second time a claim like this has been made against Detective Benson. Does _that_ sound like a coincidence?"

"No, it sounds like two overzealous defense attorneys trying to dirty up a good cop by the same claim. You know this is just ridiculous, and I can't believe you would sink this low."

"See you in chambers, Casey," he says as he leaves with a small grin on his face.

He closes the door behind him quietly, and Casey deflates in her chair. She mumbles quiet obscenities to herself, and then picks up her phone, dialing the familiar number.

"Benson."

"Olivia, it's Casey. Did you get…"

"Yeah, I got it. I've got to appear tomorrow morning."

"Have you talked to Elliot about this?"

"No," she exhales. "I haven't. And I don't plan on doing so until Petrovsky makes a decision. He doesn't need to agonize over this, and neither does Kathy."

"Well, Kathleen has to know. Petrovsky will most likely want to hear from her as well as from you."

"Case," she says desperately. "There's no way we can get Kathleen back from Miami in that time and I'm not going to put her through hell to get her here for something she might not need to do."

"Oh God. I forgot she was in Miami."

"Yeah," she says. "And the trip was supposed to be stress-free."

"We'll just have to let Petrovsky know. Maybe we won't need Kathleen."

"Yeah," she breathes. "Here's hoping."

"Okay," she nods, pausing for a moment. "Olivia, I am going to need to know exactly what happened. I need to know exactly what was said between the two of you."

"I didn't do anything unprofessional or improper, Case. You gotta believe me."

"I know," she nods to herself. "I do."

---  
**Office of Judge Lena Petrovsky  
January 10, 2004  
-9:02am-**

"Alright, Mr. Langdon, state your claim. And make it fast. I've got to be in arraignment soon."

"Your Honor, I'm sure you've read the motion to suppress the line-up in the case against my client, Mr. Julio Sanchez…"

"Humor me," she says, sitting down. "On what grounds?"

"Tainted identification," he states. "Detective Benson interrogated Mr. Sanchez just moments before she went to prepare the victim, Miss Kathleen Stabler, for the line-up. They were seen sitting on a bench in the hallway of the police station, talking just before Miss Stabler entered the line-up. Who knows what was said?"

"And what do The People say, Miss Novak?"

"The People, and Detective Benson maintain her innocence. Detective Benson is an outstanding police officer with a reputation to match…"

"Then why has a claim like this been made against her once before?" Trevor asks, his eyebrows perked.

"I remember that case, Mr. Langdon, and the claim was completely bogus. So don't try that in my chambers, or in my courtroom," she says almost coldly, but Casey can't help but feel a bit of warmth run through her blood.

"Your Honor, I hope you can see this for what it really is – a personal attack against the integrity of one NYPD detective. This has nothing to do with the case at hand."

"That may be so, Miss Novak," Judge Petrovsky says, standing up. "But I still have see if this claim is validated. I suppose Detective Benson and Miss Stabler are here?"

"Detective Benson is, Your Honor."

"And where is Miss Stabler?"

"I would imagine laying out on some Miami beach," Langdon manages under his breath.

"Would you mind elaborating, Miss Novak?"

"Miss Stabler _is_ in Miami, Your Honor."

"May I ask why, in a high profile case, would the number one witness be anywhere but in New York?"

"For the mere reason that this is a high profile case. Reporters have been camping out on her yard since she got home. She gets phone calls from media constantly. It makes a big story – the daughter of a sex crimes detective is a victim of the horrors he's trying to prevent. She's been through physical and emotional trauma, and she shouldn't have to put up with all this extra stress. She has extended family in Miami, and she went to clear her mind before the trail proceedings began. You can't expect a sixteen-year-old girl who went through what she did to be invincible."

Judge Petrovsky takes a deep breath. She takes off her glasses and let's them fall from her hand to her desk.

"Alright," she exhales. "I want to hear from Detective Benson and Miss Stabler before I make a decision on this matter. So, I'm giving The People a continuance. You and the NYPD, Miss Novak, have forty-eight hours to get Miss Stabler here for questioning on this matter. If she is not here, then I'll make the decision without her, and I can guarantee it won't work in your favor. I'll hear from Detective Benson then, as well."

The attorneys share glances, and Judge Petrovsky stands straighter.

"Am I understood?"

"Understood, Your Honor. Thank you," Casey says. She nods as she exits and Trevor is right behind her, but they turn around when Petrovsky calls after Trevor.

"And Mr. Langdon," she begins. "I did get a chance to read your client's harassment claim against Detective Benson."

"And?" he asks.

"If you try to pull another outrageous claim like that again with me, I'll have you disbarred."

"Yes, Your Honor."

They close Petrovsky's door behind them, and they make eye contact. "Told you so," Casey says with a small smile.

"See you in forty-eight hours," he says, walking off.

Casey breathes away her smile, and finds Olivia in the crowded courtroom hallway. She's sitting with her head in her hands, and her back slouched like the weight of the world is on her shoulders. And Casey knows that, in some strange way, it is.

"Hey," Casey stops in front of her.

Olivia lifts her head, her eyes dried from tears that she won't talk about. "Hey. How'd it go?"

"Not bad." She nods. "We've got forty-eight hours to get Kathleen here so Petrovsky can talk to her."

"I don't consider that 'not bad'."

Casey sits next to Olivia on the bench, crossing her legs. "It's better than her deciding now without hearing what really happened."

"I didn't do anything wrong, Casey. And neither did Kathleen. And she shouldn't have to be pulled from this trip any earlier than she has to. This is ridiculous! I can't believe you're not doing more to…"

"Please don't point the finger at me, Olivia. This is not my fault."

"But you're not…"

"If you're pissed off at this, fine. God knows we all are. Kathleen shouldn't have been put through anything she's been through, but that does not make it my fault. It doesn't make it your fault. We just have to do the best we can with what we have, and getting Kathleen here in forty-eight hours so we can keep a key part of her trial is the best I have."

"Not good enough."

"With this trial, with this case, Olivia, I don't think anything's going to be good enough. But I have to do the best I can…"

"With what you have," she completes. "I know. But it's still…"

"Yeah, it sucks."

"Yeah," she says, scoffing out a humorless laugh.

"Look, Olivia, I know this may be difficult, but with this motion, you can't…"

"I know. I can't contact or communicate with Kathleen in any way."

"Not until this hearing is over at least."

"Yeah," she breathes. She lets her head fall into her hands once again, and Casey can't help but feel the reality. She's managed to keep a far enough distance from this case, from Elliot and Kathleen and the Stablers, but it's coming all too quickly towards her.

"You can't beat yourself up over this."

Olivia's silent, and Casey puts a hand on her colleague's back.

"Olivia, I think you have to start letting go."

"Of what, Case? Of what? Because, as I see it, I have nothing left to let go of. If anything, I'm just trying to hold on to what little I have."

Casey licks her lips, trying to find the right words that may be on them. "I meant that you have to start letting go of that piece of you that's taking this case so personally."

"How the hell do you expect me to act! This is one of our own! She's one of ours! This is Elliot's daughter for Christ's sake!"

"Yeah…_Elliot's _daughter." She lowers her voice to a whisper. "Not yours."

"I don't know what you're getting at…"

"I'm trying to say that yes, this case is a whole lot closer to you than any other case will be, and yes, it's supposed to be difficult and it's supposed to hurt you. It's supposed to rip your heart out a little. For Elliot; for Kathleen. But it's not supposed to tear you apart like it's doing now. It's not supposed to take over your life from here on out."

"Your right," she says in a hoarse whisper. "It's supposed to rip up Elliot. It's supposed to rip up Kathleen; their entire family. It's supposed to be the thing that tears them down, that tears them apart, the thing that ruins them for the rest of their life."

Casey gives Olivia a questioning glance. She tries to say something, but Olivia's words come out too fast.

"But, God, Casey, I'm not going to let that happen. I'm _not_ going to watch Elliot and his family suffer, while I stand by and let this case become just 'a little personal'. If I have to take a little bit of their pain and make it my own so they'll feel a little better, then I'll do it. I'll share the burden with them if that's what it takes."

"You don't have to do that…"

"Yes," she says forcibly. "Yes, I do. That's the only way I'm going to get through this." She gets up from the bench, her body aching more than she'll ever admit. She begins to walk away from Casey, but her name calls her back.

"Olivia, you can't…"

"I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop telling me what I can and can't do."

Casey nods. "We have to go tell Elliot."

"That's where I'm going after I update Cragen." She turns on her heels, walking away, but Casey yells after her anyway.

"I'll meet you there."

"You do whatever the hell you want," she says under her breath, as she tries to stop the silent tears she's crying.

---  
**Stabler Residence  
Same Day  
-12:17pm-**

"Mom! Dad! Olivia and Casey are here!" yells Lizzie, as she lets the two women into the house. Kathy enters from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, and Dickie comes down the stairs. "And me and Dickie are going to go shoot some hoops. Is that okay?"

"Home in an hour, okay?"

"Okay," they reply in unison. Lizzie takes the ball from Dickie and they run out the door.

"Hey," Kathy says, acknowledging their presence. "What's up?"

"Hey guys," Elliot says, coming down from the stairs. "What's going on?"

"I wish we were here for a good reason," Casey starts to explain.

"Oh God," Kathy whispers to herself. "What's wrong?"

"Kathy, it really isn't as bad as it's going to sound," Olivia tries to assuage.

"I'll decide that," she says calmly. "What's going on?"

"Stop beating around the bush, Olivia," Elliot states.

"Trevor Langdon made a motion to suppress the line-up," Casey says, brushing the stray hairs out of her eyes. "He says it was tainted."

"How could he think that?" Kathy asks, letting herself fall into a chair.

"Before the line-up, I interrogated Sanchez. It got pretty intense, I lost my temper. And then I went to go prep Kathleen for the line-up. She was nervous, so I sat her down in the hallway bench to talk to her. Trevor is making it seem that I told her who to choose, or what he looked like."

Kathy takes a deep breath, tucking a strand of hair behind her hair. "I have to ask," she says, looking down, feeling guilty for having to.

"I didn't," Olivia states. "I didn't once mention anything of the sort."

She nods and continues, wringing her hands. "So, what does all this mean?"

"Judge Petrovsky decided on the matter. There was a hearing this morning, and before Petrovsky makes a decision, she wants to hear from both Kathleen and Olivia."

"If the motion was this morning, why the hell am I hearing about it now?" Elliot says, arms crossed.

"Letting you guys worry for a few hours wouldn't have made a difference. And we weren't even sure if we needed Kathleen for this."

He breathes heavily, all of it coming down at once. "Kathleen's in Miami," he says, and Kathy looks up at Olivia, pain evident in her eyes.

"How is it going to work if she wants to talk to her, and she's thousands of miles away?" Kathy adds.

"Well, the judge granted us a continuance."

"She comes home in about a week," Kathy says.

Casey seems unsure about what she has to say, but she takes a deep breath and lets it all out. "She gave us forty-eight hours."

"So that means we have to start arranging travel plans now…"

"Yeah," Olivia says.

"How important is this? How important is Kathleen's role in all this? Because I'm not going to pull her out of a trip that's supposed to make her forget about all this just so you can have her questioned for fifteen minutes."

Olivia hasn't really seen Kathy as the mother lioness, but it comes out all too quickly.

"Her role is very important," Casey says. "It's crucial if she wants to win this."

Kathy takes a deep breath. "If this line-up is so important, what's going to happen if this doesn't work in our favor and the line-up gets thrown out?"

"We're screwed," Elliot butts in, and everyone stares at him.

"We wouldn't be screwed," Casey assuages. "Yes, it would be more difficult to put him away, but no, it wouldn't be impossible."

"Great," Kathy says under her breath. "Well, Elliot, what do you want to do?"

Elliot looks down at his wife and scratches his head angrily. He crosses his arms. "I guess I have a phone call to make," he says, going into the kitchen to find the phone.

"Always such the optimist," Kathy says sarcastically, but it's laced with a bit of anger.

"Like I said, Kathy. It's not as bad as it seems," Olivia says, moving a little closer.

"We got lucky when we pulled Petrovsky," Casey mentions. "She really does know what she's talking about, and I'd be surprised if she took this as seriously as Langdon does. Chances are, Kathy, the line-up will stay."

"If we're leaving it up to chances, Casey, then there's a chance that it could get thrown out."

---  
**Miami, FL  
Same Time**

"I wanna play Candy-Land!" Isabel screams. "I HATE MONOPOLY!"

"It's my turn to choose the game, Izzy. You can't be the boss of everything all the time!"

"Alright, alright," Jim breaks it up. "Either you two decide on something to do together, or I'll give you something to do together, and I can promise you it won't be as much fun."

"Candy-Land," Isabel whispers under her breath.

"Monopoly," Joey retorts back.

"I'm thinking of vacuuming the carpets, or raking the yard," Jim says from the kitchen, hearing the exchange.

"Ugh! Fine, we'll play Candy-Land!" Joey secedes.

"I knew you'd see it my way," Isabel says, getting the board game out of the toy chest.

Kathleen can't help but laugh and remember when she and Maureen used to be like that. Much like Jim, her father would make an ultimatum, and they'd calm down. She hands her uncle the plates for lunch, chastising herself internally for making herself think of home again.

The phone rings when she hears Joey and Isabel go at it again. Candy-Land or Monopoly. Candy-Land or Monopoly.

"Hey, little bro," she hears her uncle say, and everything slowly stops.

Her father said he'd only call if something came up with the trial.

"Yeah, she's right here. Do you want to talk to her?…Elliot, is everything okay?…Okay, okay, she's right here." He turns to his niece who is chopping up tomatoes for the salad. "It's your dad, kiddo."

She takes the receiver slowly. "Hey, Daddy," she says calmly. She hopes she is wrong about everything she's thinking.

"Hey, kiddo. How's it going down there?" She notices his voice. Forced cheerfulness.

"You can tell me, Dad. How bad is it?"

Elliot breathes into the phone. "I'm so sorry, honey, but…"

"But, what, Daddy?"

Desperate.

"Something's come up with the case."

Sorrowful.

"Like what?" she asks, putting down her knife, and walking away from the salad.

"The defense is trying to throw out the line-up…"

"Why? What's wrong with it?" She sits at the dining room table, trying to focus on breathing. The motions made of breathing. The in. The out.

His fragile hearts breaks a little bit more with every word. "They think it's tainted. They think Olivia told you to choose Sanchez."

"But she…"

"We know, kiddo. We believe you guys. But the judge has to decide on this motion, and she'll want to hear from you."

"Okay," she says slowly, telling her brain that she must go into trial mode. "When? When I get back?"

"Actually…"

"Actually, what?"

"Judge Petrovsky is giving us two days so you can get here. She has to decide on this soon."

"She can't wait until I get home?"

"I'm sorry, sweetie."

"Not your fault," she whispers, but he can't stop thinking that it's exactly his fault.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," he mentions.

"Yes, I do, Daddy. I know I do." She stops, tracing the cracks in the table she's sitting at. "And it's okay. I told you I was in this until the end. And it's just the beginning."

"My brave little girl," he chokes out over the tears beginning to form in his throat.

"Your brave little girl is going to need her even braver daddy to pick her up from the airport when she gets there. Is that okay?"

"Sure, baby, you know I will."

"Is Olivia there?" she says, as her uncle stops with lunch and moves in front of her.

"She is, but…"

"But, what?"

"She can't communicate with you. If it gets out that she talked to you before the hearing, it could look like you guys are figuring out a story to tell the judge."

"Yeah," she breathes out. "Okay. Could you just tell her…could you just tell her that I'm sorry she got dragged into this?"

"I'll let her know." He scratches his head. "Your plane leaves tomorrow evening."

"I guess I'll go pack."

"I'll meet you at the airport, okay?"

"Okay," she sniffles away the tears she knows are coming. "I love you, Daddy."

"Not as much as I love you."

She hangs up the phone, and crosses her legs. She wipes away the hair in her face and looks up at her uncle. "I've got some packing do to."

"I heard. Is everything okay?"

"The judge needs to talk to me personally before she decides on a motion that could make or break my case."

Jim nods, and covers her tender hand with his strong one. "Need help?"

"I'll be okay."

­­­---  
**Miami International Airport  
Miami, FL  
January 11, 2004  
-7:32pm-**

"You know you can call me if you need anything," Jim says as he hands Kathleen her bag.

"I know," she nods, wiping away a tear.

"You are going to do fantastic, honey."

"Thanks."

Jim strokes her shoulder, and takes her into a hug. "No fear, remember? You didn't do anything wrong, and this is your chance to set things right, to make things better."

"I love you, Uncle Jim."

"I love you, too, Kat."

She boards her flight, putting her headphones on to forget the sound of the take-off. It has always been her least favorite part of flying. Once she is up in the air, she's okay, but it's that first, initial step that always scares her.

---  
A/N – Well, things are moving along, aren't they? I just want to thank every one of you guys who have stuck with me since One of Their Own. I started this whole story quite awhile ago and I thank you for the longevity, support, enthusiasm, and overall wonderful-ness. And if wonderful-ness isn't a word, I'm making it one right now. hehe.


	18. Unstabler

Title: Beautiful Soul  
Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Not mine.

---  
**JFK Airport  
January 11, 2004  
-10:30am-**

"Thank you," Kathleen says as the perky flight attendant reviews the ticket and hands it back to her.

"Kathleen!" Liz shouts when she sees her sister. She runs toward her, throwing her arms around Kathleen in a hug. Kathleen immediately reciprocates. She drops her bag and picks Liz up, holding on tight. "I missed you," Liz squeezes out.

"I bet I missed you more," Kathleen says, putting her down. She sees her father moving closer to her and falls into him.

"Have a good flight?" he asks, stroking her back.

"Yeah," she breathes.

She takes in her father's familiar scent that has always been so comforting. They pull out of the hug, and Elliot takes Kathleen's bag. Liz automatically clings to Kathleen, and Elliot smiles at them.

"She begged to come," Elliot mentions, running his knuckles over Liz's cheek with the smile still glued to his face.

"Glad you did." She squeezes her sister's shoulder. "So…what happens now?"

"We don't have much time, so we're going to go straight to the courthouse. That okay?"

She breathes, running a hand through her hair. "Umm…yeah. Yeah, that's fine." She swallows, hoping it will take the big lump in her throat with it. "Is Mom going to be there?"

"She and Olivia are going to meet us there."

---  
**New York City Courthouse  
New York, New York  
January 11  
-10:57am-**

They all walk into the courthouse and Kathleen spots her mom, sitting on a bench. She walks quickly over to her and greets her with a warm hug.

"I missed you," Kathleen whispers in her mother's ear.

"Missed you more," she says gently back.

Somewhere deep down within herself, Kathleen knows she is home. That everything she's needed has been right here. And all the answers she's been searching for are all within herself.

"Have a good trip?" Kathy asks, as Elliot and Liz catch up.

"Yeah," Kathleen manages to get out before Casey comes into the courthouse corridor. She welcomes Kathleen home, but gets right to business.

"You ready?" Casey asks, holding her briefcase with both hands, and waiting for an answer.

"Yeah." Kathy squeezes her daughter's shoulder and offers a smile. Kathleen tucks some hair behind her ear and gives Casey a small, assuring smile. "Let's do this."

"That's what I like to hear." Casey leads Kathleen to another corridor after her father and sister give her hugs.

Kathleen walks into a smaller, quieter hallway, and Olivia is the first person she spots. She's sitting on a bench, he arms and legs crosses, and her eyes drooping.

"I've got to go into Petrovsky's office, and I'll come get you when she's ready." Kathleen offers a blank nod as she keeps her focus on Olivia. "Why don't you go sit down? Take a load off." Kathleen begins to walk towards Olivia, but Casey's voice stops her. "Kathleen…you can sit by her, but try your best not to ta-"

"I know. We can't communicate. It'll look like we're trying to come up with a story. I get it. I won't say anything, I promise."

Casey nods and walks in the office, leaving Kathleen in the hallway. Leaving her to either make or break her promise. And as much as she hates to do it, she breaks it.

"Olivia," she breathes, walking over to her. She stands in front of Olivia and stuffs her hands in her pockets.

"Hey, kid," Olivia looks up, and offers a smile. "Good to have you home." She stands and throws her arms around the young girl. Kathleen completes the hug and takes in another familiar scent – one of lilacs and springtime.

"I know we shouldn't talk…"

"I won't tell, if you won't tell," Olivia says with a mischievous smile. "And, hey, we both know what happened. Let's not talk about that."

"Okay," Kathleen smiles, and they sit down together.

Their conversation is light as Kathleen tells of her time in Miami. Of her cousins' antics and her amazing horseback ride. Olivia doesn't make her feel awkward about feeling connected to an animal, and Kathleen loves her all the more for it. It falls silent and the reality sets in on her. This is make or break. Win or lose. Life or death. She runs a nervous hand through her slightly frizzy hair and then wrings her hands.

"Olivia, do you think people can change – like, for the better? I mean, I know people can have a change of heart every now and then, but…I don't know. That doesn't always mean they change completely. Do you think it's possible that people can really change for the good?"

"I don't know," Olivia says honestly. "Anything's possible."

She stops for a moment and stares at Kathleen. She grabs her hand.

"Kathleen, are you talking about Sanchez?"

"No…" she says immediately, but softens. "Yes. Maybe. I don't know. I've just been thinking a lot, I guess."

"Thinking about what?"

Kathleen wrings her hands and looks at Olivia. She breathes, knowing she will talk about something that nobody in her family really likes to talk about.

"My Uncle Jim," she begins. "He…um…well, you met him. Wouldn't you consider him a good guy?"

"He bought you a car," Olivia jokes. "Yeah, I'd consider him a good guy."

"Well…he wasn't always that way, I guess. He…he used to have a real drinking problem. He always had a thing for alcohol, but a few years after he got married, it got really bad. Aunt Elise did everything she could, but nothing really helped. So, they started going to marriage counseling. He started to feel like a failure, which made him drink more. And that made Aunt Elise more upset. It was just a domino effect and nothing seemed to get better."

Kathleen pauses for a moment, surprised that it came out as easy as it did. She swallows, hoping it will start her breathing again.

"Kathleen…" Olivia says softly and assuringly. She's intrigued and wants to hear more, but if it hurts Kathleen to do so, she doesn't want her to go on.

"And so he went to AA meetings. He thought things might get better…and they did, they really did. He was sober for months and they even stopped going to marriage counseling because things got so much better. But a few months later, my uncle's company started making cutbacks and he ended up losing his job."

A tear falls off of Kathleen's cheek, as if the memory is directly her own. Olivia holds her hand, desperate to keep her from falling off the edge.

"That day he found out, he went to some bar, and started drinking. Drink after drink," Kathleen says, her mantra causing more tears to fall. "He…he ended up meeting some woman there, and she offered to take him home, which she did. But, she stayed. Aunt Elise was spending the night in Albany with her parents, and this woman stayed the night."

Olivia squeezes her hand and Kathleen takes a deep breath, afraid of the reality of her story.

"They slept together. He was so drunk, and she just didn't care what she was doing." She takes a breath, digesting it all, and she's happy to see Olivia's eyes aren't judgmental. "Aunt Elise came home that next morning and found them in bed. God, it was so bad. He explained everything, but I guess she just couldn't take it anymore. She tried – she tried for a long time to make things right, but she just couldn't anymore.

"She filed for divorce and then she sued for full custody of Joey and Isabel. They went to court, and Uncle Jim ended up with some visitation rights. But the judge ordered that in order to have his rights be effective, he had to go to individual and group therapy."

Kathleen wipes her eyes and stares at Olivia.

"I don't know what I'm trying to say. I mean, if I heard some other guy that had done all this stuff, I'd think that he's some horrible person. But, this is my uncle. I know him – I love him. He's _not _a bad guy. I-I-I keep thinking that…that…I don't know."

"Kathleen, having a drinking problem and raping and murdering people are two very different things. _Very_ different things. I don't think therapy can fix this guy."

"Yeah," Kathleen agrees. She nods, like she's trying to convince herself. "Yeah…you're right. I know that, I just…" She stops, and squeezes Olivia's hand.

"Just what, honey?" asks Olivia, brushing away a strand of Kathleen's hair away from her face.

"I keep thinking that Sanchez is somebody's uncle," she admits. "That he's somebody's hero. My Uncle Jim is my hero, and when I heard what happened, I was crushed. I was devastated. And I keep thinking that there's this girl out there that's being crushed because her uncle is going through this. And it's all my…"

"Don't you dare say that this is your fault. You know this is not your fault. Honey, you have to stop comparing the two of them. Your uncle did something wrong, yes. But he owned up to it, paid his dues, took his consequences, and now he's moving on as a better person. But Sanchez…he did something that was first and foremost illegal. He's denying he did anything wrong when we know damn well that he did. He hurt you in a way that is unforgivable. Don't give him the small victory of feeling guilty or of blaming yourself."

Kathleen offers a small smile. "Yeah," she exhales. "Thanks, Liv." Olivia nods and puts her arms around Kathleen. "Would you think less of me if I told you I was nervous about going in there?"

"Would you think less of me if I asked you the same thing?"

Kathleen just nods to herself, taking in the fact that Olivia is just like her, with fears and worries.

"I just keep feeling like I'm gonna let everyone down. That everyone thinks I'm so courageous and brave, and I'm just going to let them down."

"Well, let me tell you what I think. I think that in order to be considered brave, you can't just have courage, you have to _do _courage."

Kathleen gives her a confused look, and Olivia continues.

"You can't just get up and say you have what it takes. You actually have to get up and _do _something in order to have courage. That proves you've got the attitude it takes."

Kathleen gives Olivia a quick hug, and they pull away. They sit comfortably next to each other, before Casey peaks her head out of the office and sees the two of them. "Hey, she's ready. Kathleen…she wants to hear from you first."

She takes a deep breath and stands on her unstable feet.

---  
A/n – Whew. Okay, I know I keep telling you guys that I'll be better about updating, but these past few months have been one of change and adjustment, and it's just been really tough on me. And honestly, I didn't know if anyone was still reading, or if it was really worth it.

But then about a week ago, I got a review begging me to finish, and I promise that if there's only one reader, I will finish. So, things are beginning to wind down and I'm getting into a better routine. I try to write every night, and my goal is to get this finished by February. Will you guys help if I get off track??

Thank you so much for all the support, longevity, and enthusiasm. Hope you stuffed your face with turkey and such yesterday! All my love, - Jessica


	19. Judgment Day

Title: Beautiful Soul  
Chapter 19

A/N – Just a continuance. You'll see Petrovsky's interview of Kathleen.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

---  
Kathleen gets up, fixes her hair, and walks as proudly as he can into the chambers of Judge Petrovsky, taking in the features of the office. Her diplomas hang on the wall; photos of family, friends, colleagues, and constituents line her shelves; and various volumes of books fill her bookcases. She's dressed in her robes, and smiles at Kathleen when she walks into the room.

"Miss Stabler?" asks Judge Petrovsky.

"Yes, Your Honor," Kathleen confirms, sticking her hand out.

Petrovsky smiles at the confidence of the young woman and shakes her hand.

"It's nice to meet you," she mentions. "You certainly take after your father."

Kathleen lets go of the judge's hand and tries to hide her smile. "If I had a nickel for everytime I heard that…"

The judge laughs. "Please, have a seat, Miss Stabler," she says, as she moves behind her desk. "And you can ignore the monkeys in the suits."

Kathleen glances at Casey and Trevor and offers Petrovsky a laugh. She sits down, crossing her legs and folding her hands on her lap in anticipation.

"Okay, Miss Stabler, I know you're older, but I'm going to do this to make myself feel better – just as a precaution. Just to record your competency. That okay?"

Kathleen seems unsure of what she's going to do, but agrees. "Sure."

"Okay. If I said Ms. Novak's shirt was orange, that would be…"

Kathleen looks back at Casey's baby blue shirt. "A lie," she completes.

"And if I said my desk is brown, that would be…"

"The truth."

"Okay," Petrovsky smiles. "Thank you for indulging me. Well, I'm sure you know why you're here. Mr. Langdon seems to think that Detective Benson told you who to pick in your line-up, therefore, tainting it. And I'd like to hear what you have to say about this. Would you tell me what happened?"

Kathleen takes a deep breath.

"Well, I was home with my dad when we got a call from Captain Cragen. He said they had a suspect and they wanted me to do a line-up. I agreed to it, and we went down to the station. Olivia started to take me to the line-up room, but I got really dizzy and really nervous. I started sweating and I could barely breathe. Olivia sat me down on the bench in the hallway and just assured me that things were going to be okay. She told me to just go in there, take my time, look at each one, and if I recognized anyone, to name the number they were holding. She just encouraged me. That's all."

"Did she, at any point, tell you what number to choose or what Mr. Sanchez looked like?"

"No. Absolutely not. Detective Benson was nothing but proper and professional."

"Before all this, did you have a personal relationship with Detective Benson?"

"You mean before my rape?" Petrovsky nods. "Well, not really. I mean, I always thought of her as my dad's colleague. She came to dinner sometimes and she was always nice to me and my siblings, but I wouldn't say we were extremely close."

Petrovsky nods to herself, but Trevor Langdon interrupts her train of thought.

"Your Honor, with all due respect, she could've talked to Detective Benson to come up…"

"I know what I saw!" Kathleen snaps. "I didn't need Olivia to help me pick out your client, because I saw his face perfectly when he was on top of me, _raping me_! And I resent the fact that you're trying to jam up a good cop."

Petrovsky puts her hand up to Trevor and looks back at Kathleen. "Miss Stabler, I'm going to trust your word. Did you and Detective Benson talk at all between the beginning of this hearing and now?"

Kathleen wrings her hands. "Not about this, no."

The judge furrows her eyebrows. "Then about what?"

She looks up. "My trip to Miami. I was talking about my two younger cousins and how they reminded me of me and my sister when we were that age."

Petrovsky gives a small smile. "Anything else?"

"No, ma'am."

"Okay," she nods. "Thank you, Miss Stabler, for coming down here. I realize we interrupted your trip, but I appreciate it."

"No place like home," Kathleen says with a polite smile. "Whatever I can do to help."

She gets up, shakes the judge's hand and walks out of the room with a small glance from Casey. She walks out and nods to Olivia to go in.

---  
Kathleen holds her mom's hand as they wait to hear from Petrovsky on her decision. Her sister goes on and on about what happened in New York while she was gone, but it fades softly into the air as Kathleen thinks of her future. She catches eyes with Olivia every now and then. Olivia offers reassuring smiles, but Kathleen knows that she is thinking the same things she is.

Liz finally stops talking and falls into her sister's embrace. Kathleen strokes her strawberry hair. She sees Casey out of the corner of her and eye and looks to her.

Casey comes up, and grabs her briefcase with her free hand. She gives a small smile and Kathleen feels a little bit of hope. But she won't be sure until she hears the words.

"I've got some good news," Casey starts, but doesn't have to finish. Kathleen gets up and gives Casey a hug. Casey thanks her for coming down, but Kathleen thanks her more.

Kathy and Elliot thank Casey, and Casey gives them updates on the progress of the trial, telling them that jury selection is in a week.

Kathleen falls into the background and whispers to Olivia, "I still need to get a pregnancy test."

Olivia looks at her. "When do you want to go?"

"Now," she whispers. "Right now."

"Kathleen, maybe you need to a breather…"

"I need to go now, Olivia. If I don't go now, I won't ever go."

"Okay," she says, because at this point, that's all she can say.

---  
A/n – Okay, I know that was short, but I have Chapter 20 written, and 21 is almost done. Things just have been so crazy lately, you have no idea. But feel free to nag me if you feel neglected. Okay? Okay. Deal? Deal. Until next chapter, adios! –Jessica


	20. Facing It All

Title: Beautiful Soul  
Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N - Okay, I know it's been FOREVER. I know, I know. And feel free to berate me in a review. I had some chatpers written before, but it wasn't taking me where I needed it to go. So I had to rewrite them again between getting my last volunteer hours, helping my friend plan her sweet sixteen party, taking a new leadership position in my church, and trying to not to fail my algebra II final. Not to mention, I've had some serious personal issues going on in my life and my family, and that's taken up some of my time. So I hope you enjoy, because this has certainly been my labor of love.

Just so you won't have to read the last 20 chapters to stay updated, here's the summary. Kathleen's safe at home, and now starting to prep for her trial. She just came back from Miami to appear in front of the judge, who denied Trever Langdon's motion to supress the line-up. At the end of the last chapter, Kathleen said she had to go take a pregnancy test and asked Olivia to take her. Enjoy.

---  
**Women's Clinic  
Manhattan, New York  
January 11, 2004  
-2:30pm-**

Her parents let her go with Olivia for the pregnancy test. Her father's shoulders had slumped, but he'd agreed. Kathleen couldn't help but see the tiny bit of hurt in her mother's eyes. She'd hated seeing it; it was like a knife in her heart to know that she had hurt her mother, even in the tiniest bit. It wasn't so much that she had chosen Olivia over her mom; she just wasn't sure if she could get it done with her mom. She feared she'd lose all the strength she had and let herself fall to her mother's comfort. This, she had to do on her own to prove to herself she could.

Olivia stops the car outside the clinic. Kathleen remembers coming here one day after school with her friend, Chloe. Chloe's mom owned the clinic, and they decided to get volunteer hours while they could. They'd stood behind the desk and took paperwork, putting them in appropriate bins. It had been fun, simply because she was with her best friend.

Now, as she looks at the doors, it looks anything but fun.

"You sure you want to do this now?"

"No," she admits. "But I gotta."

Olivia nods, and takes the key out of the ignition. "Okay, then."

"Let's go." Kathleen opens the door and gets out, wrapping her coat closer around her. She walks around the car, and she and Olivia walk to the doors together.

Chloe's mother, Paige, notices Kathleen. She puts down the chart from her recent patient and walks over to the women. "Kathleen," she breathes. "What are you doing here?"

Kathleen feels a chill go up her spine. Olivia squeezes her shoulder.

"I guess what everyone else is here for," she says softly.

Paige's face turns immediately pale, as she remembers; as reality comes back to her. "Oh God, Kathleen…I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking…"

"It's okay," Kathleen says, offering a small forced smile. "Just…what do we need to do?"

Paige nods. "We'll get you started on some paperwork."

Kathleen wrings her hands as Paige leaves to get a new packet of papers. Olivia appears behind her. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

"Umm…actually, I think I'll be okay. Just basic information, right?"

"Okay, I'm going to go sit down. Call me if you need anything."

"Okay." Olivia leaves and Paige comes back, carrying a stack of papers.

"Fill out what you can," Paige whispers. "I'm doing the test myself, so don't worry about all the details. Okay?"

Kathleen nods. She takes the papers and looks at the first blank after the word, "Name." She moves to the end of the counter and tries to put pen to paper. But she just can't put down her name. Try as she might, she can't put "Kathleen Stabler" on that line. It makes it all too real; it gives her goose bumps. She breathes and closes her eyes, wishing this could all be over. She already can't stand the thought of being here.

She opens her eyes, staring at the blank. She looks back at Olivia, who is reading some random magazine off the table. She hates herself for what she's about to do. She turns back, filling in the blank.

"Name: Olivia Benson."

She fills in the rest of the information quickly, and Paige appears. "Ready?"

Kathleen puts the cap on the pen she's been using, and pushes the clipboard forward. "As much as I'm ever going to be."

Paige takes the clipboard of information and doesn't even glance at it. She leads Kathleen to an exam room. They perform the test, and Kathleen waits anxiously on the exam table.

Paige signs the papers, but doesn't look at what is right in front of her face. "Do you want the results ASAP?"

Kathleen laughs humorlessly. "Take all the time you need. Deliver them to the address on the paper. Really – no rush." She gets off the table and begins to gather her things.

"I really do wish you the best, Kathleen."

"Thanks," she replies quickly. She begins to make a break for the door, but gets stopped.

"Kathleen…Chloe misses you. I know things are tough right now for you, but maybe…I don't know, maybe you two can get together soon. Go see a movie or go to the mall, maybe."

Kathleen forces a smile._ Do you really not get it? _"Yeah. Maybe. Look…thanks for this, Ms. Dechert. I appreciate it."

Paige seems a little surprised at the response and gives a nod. "Yeah. Sure. Anytime."

Kathleen walks out of the room and practically runs back to the lobby. She searches for Olivia and finds her quickly. She motions that she is done, and Olivia stands and walks over to Kathleen.

"I'm ready to go."

"Alright. Then, let's get out of here."

---  
**Stabler Residence  
-3:57pm-**

"You wanna come in?" Kathleen asks of Olivia when the Sedan glides to a stop in front of the house.

"Nah, I gotta get back to work," she mentions, as if she's really saying, 'You know you can do this.'

"Okay…well…I'll talk to you later, I guess."

"You'll be okay, kid. No matter how any of this turns out, we'll deal with it and it'll be okay."

Does she mean "we" as in SVU, or "we" as in the Stabler family? Kathleen takes comfort in the fact that Olivia may consider herself part of the family. Because the moment she allowed her to fall into those comforting arms, almost like her father's, Kathleen has considered Olivia part of her life; her family.

"I hope so."

"I really can promise you that you will have people who love you no matter what, and that they will be there for you. _I'll_ be there for you."

She nods silently like that alone can mean thanks. "Have fun at work, Liv." And with that, Kathleen moves out of the car, walking up to the family she knows is waiting for her.

"I'm home," Kathleen announces as she walks in.

"Kat!" Lizzie says excitedly as she comes down the stairs. "I missed you."

"Missed me? I was only gone for an hour."

"I know, but you were gone for a week before that."

Kathleen looks at her younger sister and gets lost in her mesmerizing eyes. "Well…I'm here now."

"Good." Lizzie steps down off the final stair and falls into her sister's arms.

Kathleen wraps her arms gingerly around Lizzie, gently cradling her sister's head in her hands.

"You okay, Lizzie?" she whispers softly.

"Yeah," she says into Kathleen's chest. "Just glad you're here."

"Me, too." She strokes her sister's hair. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah…well, I've been waiting for you so I could talk to you about something."

Kathleen pulls Lizzie away from her and looks at her.

"Talk about what?" she asks with worry.

Lizzie pulls her to the couch and they sit, Kathleen's face still etched with fear and anxiety.

"While you were with Olivia, I…uh…I…"

"Lizzie, what is it?"

"I…umm…I got my first period."

Kathleen can't help the laugh of relief that comes out. "Lizzie," she begins.

"Kat, it's not really funny." Lizzie says softly.

"I know. I know, you're right," she says, putting her hand on her cheek. "I just…you made it sound a lot more serious."

"Well, it is serious," Lizzie defends. "I thought I was hemorrhaging!"

Kathleen lets out another laugh, but can't stop. Lizzie stares at her and can't help but start laughing as well. She stops, and smiles at Lizzie.

"Welcome to womanhood."

"I knew that was coming," she says, rolling her eyes with a smile.

She continues to give her sister an encouraging smile. "Where's Mom? Did you tell her?"

She shakes her head. "No. She's upstairs with Dad, lying down. I didn't know what to do or if I should wake her up."

"It would've been okay if you did. She wouldn't mind."

"I know. But…I mean, I didn't know what…"

"It's okay. Have any cramps or anything?"

"My side hurts a little."

Kathleen nods and takes Lizzie into another hug. "Let's go see if we have anything for that."

"Okay." They file into the downstairs bathroom, Kathleen searching through the medicine cabinet. Lizzie stands in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe.

"How old were you when you got your first period?"

"Around twelve," Kathleen answers, handing Lizzie a small pill. "Here, this should help."

Lizzie takes it and downs it with the cup of water Kathleen hands her. "Where were you when you found out?"

"School. I remember I was completely devastated, so I called Mom. She got off work, picked me up from school, and took me out to lunch. We went shopping and hung out the rest of the day. We got home and when Dad came home, Mom told him, and he watched a movie with me."

"Wow," she says. "You think Mom will do that kind of stuff with me?"

"You gotta let her know first," Kathleen reasons.

"Kat?"

"Yeah, Lizzie?"

"I love you. I'm glad you're here."

"Love you, too, kiddo."

---  
**-5:36pm-**

Elliot wakes up from the impromptu nap he had taken when they came home from the hearing. He turns over, finding the left side of the bed where Kathy had fallen asleep next to him, empty. He gets up, running a hand through his hair, and pads out of the room.

The house is a little bit darker, not as light as he remembers it being before falling asleep. He doesn't see Kathy anywhere. Or Lizzie. Or Dickie. Or Kathleen. He searches more of the rooms and heads immediately into Kathleen's room.

He sees her sitting on her windowsill bench, arms wrapped around the knees that are tucked into her chest. She's watching out the window, looking at the small bird perched on the tree that is sprinkled with snow.

Elliot leans against her doorframe. "Hey, kiddo," he says, his voice soft so he won't scare her.

She turns her head, her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders and back. She offers a smile.

"Hey, Daddy."

"Where is everybody?" he asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets and blinking away the leftover sleep in his eyes.

"Um…" she starts, scratching her head and then running her hand through her natural, wavy hair. "Lizzie got her first period, so Mom took her out for ice cream. They said they wouldn't be gone long, but Mom's probably finding stuff they can do together. You know how she is."

He laughs. "Yeah. As I recall, she got you out of school."

She smiles at his agreement.

"Yeah." She turns back to the window. "Dickie went to hang out at Adam's until dinner. So, you're stuck with me."

He moves, sitting on her bed, watching his daughter intently. "I don't mind if you don't mind."

She tears her eyes from the window again to look at her father. "I don't mind at all."

He nods as she looks back at her window. "Penny for your thoughts?"

She shrugs. "They're probably not even worth that much."

"Well, then I think you're making a good profit."

She smiles. "I don't know. Just thinking of the trial. You know, everything going on. The pregnancy test."

"How did that go?"

She looks down, stopping the tears that are about to fall.

"I took it. I guess we'll find out the results soon enough."

He gets up, moving so he stands next to his daughter. He puts his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently.

"You know that no matter what happens, your mother and I and everyone will support you. We're all here for you. We're all on the same team."

Kathleen smiles. "No wonder you and Olivia are such good partners."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"She said the exact same thing."

"Well, great minds think alike."

"The great mind explains Olivia. What about you?" she asks with a playful smile. For a moment, Elliot is reminded of the daughter of his that she once was.

"Ha-ha. I forgot you're the funny one of the bunch."

She gives him a soft laugh and he runs his hand over her head, her soft hair assuaging his rough hands. He can sense this conversation that's been made up of meaningless banter will soon turn into something more. Something much more.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

She turns her body completely towards him, and he kneels down, so they are eye to eye. "I…I-I just wish I knew what to say to you. I mean, I want to tell you everything. I want to just…let you know everything…I want…"

"Why can't you? Is it me? Is it something I'm doing?" he asks, almost pleads. "Baby, if it's me, please tell me. I'll do anything…"

"It's not you," she whispers, tears falling like rivers from her eyes. "It's me, Daddy. It's me. I want to tell you everything…"

"You know you can. You can tell me everything, anything."

"I know…I just…I keep thinking I'm ready, but everytime I try to get it out, it won't budge. And I'm afraid if it keeps doing that, we'll never be the same. That if it keeps doing that, you'll hate me forever."

Elliot pulls his crying daughter into his arms – the arms that have acted as her protection for years. Protection from scraped knees and banged elbows; protection from nightmares and bad days; protection from boys who were bound to break her young, fragile heart. But he wonders how they will act as protection now. They couldn't protect her from violence, from rape, or shield her from cold, harsh reality: humans were bound to hurt other humans.

He hates himself for that. He loathes himself for that, almost to the point where he can't look at himself in the mirror. But he couldn't pass that hate to the child in front of him.

"Honey, I could never hate you. Not in a million years. Never. Don't you ever think that I could hate you. Don't ever think that," he forces out.

"How could you _not_ hate me? How can you _not _be frustrated with me? I mean, _I'm_ frustrated with myself! _I_ hate myself the way I am right now!"

She takes a shallow breath. She can feel herself begin to go over the edge. She hangs onto her father to keep from falling completely. But the waves of tears and emotions crash over her head and she falls back into her father's chest.

Elliot doesn't know what to do, so he does what he is used to. He does what any father would do if his child were in pain. He cradles her head in his hands and rocks her back and forth, letting her cry everything out, hoping he will absorb some of her pain.

"Shhh…It's okay, baby girl. It's going to be okay. Shhh…" he croons softly, as the tears begin to fill his eyes and blur his vision. He kisses the top of her golden-haired head, and continues to soothe her.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she says in higher pitched tone. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sor…"

Another wave crashes and transforms her mantra into a painful moan.

"Don't be sorry, kiddo," he says, stroking his hand over her hair. "Don't be sorry."

"I love you, Daddy," she whispers over the tears.

"I love you, too, baby girl. Listen here," he says, lifting her chin, "You tell me whenever you're ready, you understand? You can tell me tomorrow. You can tell me in a week. You can tell me in six months. You can even tell me in eighteen years. You tell me whenever you feel ready. I will _always_ be ready to listen."

"You won't hate me if I wait those eighteen years? You won't resent me?" she asks, fear evident in her eyes.

He brings her head back into the crook of his neck.

"I made a lot of promises in my life, Kathleen, and I haven't been too good at keeping them." He can feel her face distorting from the impending wave of tears. "But this one I can promise I will keep."

---  
**-9:47pm-**

"Thanks for tonight, Mom. I had a really fun time." Lizzie says, her fingers tightening around her shopping bag that is filled with new clothes.

"You're welcome, kiddo," Kathy says with a smile. "I had fun, too."

"You know, the rumor mill has it that Kathleen got to get out of school. Any chance of that happening for me?" she asks, mischievously.

Her mother responds with a chuckle, "Yeah, we'll see."

Kathy and Lizzie walk up to the front door of the house together, with Kathy's arm tight around Lizzie's shoulder, smiles on their faces. The past few hours together have allowed both of them to let go of some of the troubles at home, but as they walk up the driveway, key to the door in hand, it dawns on them both that reality will hit them in the face as soon as they open that door.

But they open it anyway. They put the key in the lock, turn the knob, and open the door anyway.

"Dad! Kathleen! Dickie! Anyone home?!" Lizzie yells as the darkness of the living room is alleviated by the light Kathy turns on.

Kathy sets her keys and shopping bags down on the table, and sees the sleeping forms of her husband and daughter on the couch; Kathleen tightly wrapped into Elliot's embrace. A forgotten movie continues to play, and the uneaten pizza sits in the box.

"DA-!"

"Lizzie, they're right here," Kathy mentions.

Once Lizzie sees her sleeping family, she gives her mother a smile, and puts a finger in front of her lips as if to say "shhh".

"It's getting late, honey," she whispers. "Why don't you go get ready for bed?"

"Okay," Lizzie whispers back. "When the sleepy-heads wake-up, give 'em a hug and a kiss for me."

"Will do," Kathy says. She stares at her daughter's retreating form walking up the stairs, and when Lizzie enters her room, Kathy turns back to the two sleeping on the couch. She smiles wistfully at both of them, and begins to walk toward the kitchen. She notices a note on the counter, her husband's chicken-scratch on it.

_Kathy – _

_In case this movie puts me to sleep…Dickie called and got invited to stay the night at Adam's. I told him he could. Hope you don't mind. Love you. _

_Elliot_

Kathy grins and sets the note back down. She begins to head upstairs to her bedroom, but Elliot's familiar voice stops her.

"Hey, when did you two get back?"

Kathy turns back around. "Just a minute ago. How long have you two been sleeping?"

Elliot blinks furiously, forcing out the sleep, and looks at the neon green numbers on the VCR. "We popped in the movie about three hours ago." He looks down at Kathleen, still fast asleep. "She conked out not long after the first scene. I guess I followed not long after." He strokes Kathleen's golden blonde streaks, careful not to wake her.

Kathy nods, sitting in the chair next to them. "Has she slept the whole time?" she asks curiously.

"I guess so. If she woke up at all, she didn't tell me," he whispers, continuing to admire his second child. "Why do you ask?"

Kathy shrugs. "She hasn't been sleeping well lately. The longest she'll doze is about forty-five minutes. I'm surprised she'd sleep for that long without waking up or anything."

"Must be my amazing charm," Elliot says with that shit-eating grin Kathy hasn't seen in what seems like forever.

"Must be," she agrees with a smile, knowing that deep down, it's probably her husband's strong, protective arms that lulled her daughter into a good night's sleep.

"I should wake her up, get her in a real bed," he mentions.

"No," Kathy protests gently, "She's sleeping better than she has in awhile. I would hate to wake her up, get her in bed, and not have her fall back asleep."

"Yeah," he reasons. "I guess you're right."

"Can your back handle a night on this couch?" she says, realizing the position he's in – he can't get out without moving Kathleen.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he says, leaning back into the couch.

Kathy gets out of the chair, and grabs the throw blanket off the back of it. She tosses it over Kathleen and tucks the sides in. She kisses and then strokes her forehead, whispering a goodnight. She looks back at Elliot.

"You sure you'll be okay-?"

"Daddy!" Lizzie says in an excited whisper. She prances to the couch and stands in front of her father and sleeping sister. "You're awake."

"I am," he confirms. "Come here."

He stretches out the arm that isn't wrapped around Kathleen and gives her a hug. She pulls away from the hug, and he holds her face in his palm.

Lizzie smiles. "Just don't say 'welcome to womanhood'."

He chuckles. "Okay, okay. But, I promise we're going to do something special this week – just you and me."

"Okay," she replies. "Goodnight." She plants a kiss on his cheek and hugs her mother before pouncing back up the stairs and into her room.

He runs his hand over his face. "When did she grow up?"

"I'm not quite sure. But whenever it was, it was too damn fast, that's for sure."

"I was probably at work, wasn't I?"

"Goodnight, El," Kathy says with a yawn. She gives him a light kiss on the lips and makes her way up the stairs.

"You _sure_ you don't want to sleep down here?" he asks jokingly, wiggling his eyebrows. "We can make room at the end…"

"I'm good," Kathy says with a tired smile. "I hear that bed upstairs calling my name."

"I don't hear anything," Elliot says smiling softly, as he pulls her back gently by the wrist. She almost lands in his lap, and he kisses her.

"Really?" she replies playfully. "I can hear it loud and clear."

He stops, holding his hand to his ear, pretending to strain his hearing. "Nope. Nothing. I don't hear anything."

She laughs in a whisper. "That's because your hearing's going, old man."

"You're not far behind, so I don't know who you think you're kidding," he smiles.

She smiles, simply because it is small times like this that she realizes how much she loves this man, and the family they have created together. It is times like this when they tease each other that her heart swells and she thinks they are invincible. She'd give anything to keep that feeling.

But she knows no matter what she gives, it won't ever be enough.

"She took the test," Elliot mentions under his breath, so softly, so uncharacteristic of him. He looks down at his daughter, continuing to stroke her hair.

"I know," Kathy chokes out. All she really wants to do is sleep. Sleep and forget everything.

"What if-"

"Please," she cuts him off. "Please don't. Not now."

"But what if-"

"Worrying won't solve anything." She looks up at him, their eyes truly meeting for the first time in quite awhile.

"Look," she begins breathlessly. "We'll deal with this. We'll explore options if we need to when she gets the results back. So until then, let's not worry."

"Yeah," Elliot agrees softly. "I just-"

"I know," she whispers with all the strength she can muster. She cups his cheek in her hand. "I'm scared, too, but let's take one thing at a time."

She sits on the arms of the couch and looks at him, desperation evident.

"Please, Elliot? I really don't know if I can do this if we don't take everything step by step."

He looks back at her, his heart hurting for her. "Yeah. Sure, Kath. Sure."

"Thank you." She slowly turns to head back to the stairs. "Goodnight, El," she says with finality, almost with sorrow. "I'll see you in the morning."

---  
Certainly more to come! I've got up to chapter 23 sent to my beta, and I'll get them to you as soon as possible. Love you and thanks for the encouragement.


	21. Mother's Day

Title: Beautiful Soul  
Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Dick says their not mine and they never will be. He also says I'm crazy if I think I have any rights to the show, _ER_, too. I begged him with sugar and a cherry on top. He just said that he doesn't like cherries.

---  
**Stabler Residence  
January 14, 2004  
-6:12am-**

"MOM!" Lizzie shouts from the top of the stairs. "Do you know where I put that hair ribbon I had five minutes ago?!"

Kathy sighs at the breakfast table. "I don't know, honey! Check the bathroom by the sink! That's where we did your hair!" she shouts back up the stairs.

She hears her youngest rummaging through the many items on the bathroom counter and then it stops.

"Thanks, Mom!"

Kathy pours more coffee into her mug, and runs a shaky hand through her hair. She feels Elliot's arms wrap around her from behind and she closes her eyes to revel in it.

"You're amazing, you know that?" he whispers into her ear around his smile.

"Yeah, yeah," she smiles. She takes a sip of her coffee and pulls her robe tighter around her. "Today is going to be insane, you know that, right?"

Elliot sips his own coffee and nods. "Yeah. It is. But insane is our MO."

She chuckles. "Sure, so that's what we're calling it-"

"MOM! Where did you put my competition jacket after you washed it?!"

"God, I love state competition day," Kathy says under her breath, causing Elliot to laugh. "I put it on the hook on the back of your door!"

"Why does she have to shout?" Dickie says as he rounds the corner into the kitchen, his hair every which way and his eyes half open. "It is too early for her to yell like that. Especially about cheerleading and hair ribbons."

Kathy laughs. "We'll be outta here in about twenty minutes, kid. Then you can go back to sleep."

"I'm up. I can't go back to sleep," he begins. "Hey, Dad, can I go to the courthouse with you and Kathleen today?"

Kathy and Elliot both stop in their tracks. Elliot puts his mug down and takes a big gulp of oxygen.

"You sure you wanna go? I mean, jury selection is pretty boring, kiddo."

Dickie shrugs and looks up at his dad. "I really wanna go."

Elliot looks at Kathy and they silently agree. "Alright, Son. You can go."

"Thanks," he says softly.

"But we gotta leave in about an hour, and you have to look presentable."

"Like shirt, tie, and jacket presentable? Or khaki pants and a polo presentable?"

Elliot smiles. He hates dressing up.

"You don't have to wear a jacket, but figure out nice pants, a button-up shirt, and a tie. Deal?"

"MOM!" Lizzie shouts one more time. "Where are my pom-poms?!"

She sighs. "Probably in your bag! You haven't taken them out since your last practice, have you?!"

"How come she didn't pack everything the night before?" Kathleen mutters as she enters the kitchen. She sits down next to her brother, pouring some orange juice into a glass. Her sister shouts again, asking about the location of her green socks. "She sure does have a set of lungs on her."

"Tell me about it," Dickie agrees.

"I better go get dressed," Kathy mentions. "Good morning, honey." She gets up from her seat, and kisses the crown of her daughter's head as she passes.

"Morning," Kathleen mumbles sweetly. "What time are we leaving, Daddy?"

"In about an hour," he answers, reading the paper.

"They're just picking the jury that's going to be at the trial, right? Nothing else?"

"Yep. Everyone who got summoned for jury duty will show up. They'll call them up, ask them a few questions, then Casey and Mr. Langdon will request who they want. If there are no disputes or disagreements, they'll get the one's they want."

"And the likelihood of that happening is…?"

"Slim to none," Elliot completes. He looks at two of his children. "You sure you're okay with your mom going to Liz's competition?"

Kathleen glances at her father, the glass halfway to her lips. "Yeah," she confirms. "Mom always goes to her competitions-"

"I know, but-"

"I'll be okay. I've still got you," she smiles.

"Yeah," he grins. "Why don't you guys go get dressed? We gotta be outta here soon."

Kathleen looks confused when her father talks to both of them – she didn't realize Dickie would be going. She gives him a glance and he looks at her questionably, like he's asking her permission to go. She gives him a smile, realizing her baby brother is no longer a baby. He grins in return.

They both hurry up the stairs and head to their respective rooms. When Kathy sees Kathleen passing by, she drops what she's doing and catches up with her just inside her room.

"Kat?" she asks, knocking on the door that's half-open.

"Mom? I thought you had to get ready."

"I do. I just…I wanted to make sure you're okay with me going to Lizzie's com-"

"Dad already made sure," Kathleen starts with a thankful smile. "Really, Mom, I'll be okay." She moves and stands right in front of her mother, putting her hands on Kathy's shoulders. "I really appreciate it, but I'll be fine. It's just jury selection, and plus, this might be good for me and Daddy to do together."

Kathy smiles, her hand making its way to her daughter's cheek. "You're right. I'm just being one of those annoying, overprotective mothers, aren't I?" she chuckles.

Her daughter laughs. "Yeah, just a little. But I don't mind."

She smiles at Kathleen's comment. "I'm so proud of you, you know that, right?"

"I had a feeling," she jokes.

"I love you so much."

"Feeling's mutual, Mom."

Kathy chuckles slightly and squeezes her daughter's hands. "Promise you'll call if you need me today?"

"Of course. But you think you'll hear your phone over all the cheering crowds?" she smiles.

"I'm sure I will," she assures, knowing that the only sound she'll be listening for today is the sound of her ringtone.

---  
**New York City Courthouse  
-10:12am-**

"And, Mr. Jansen, would you have a problem with delivering a death sentence when it came to sentencing?" Casey asks Possible Juror Number Two.

The forty-year-old shrugs. "I suppose not. I mean, as long as the punishment fits the crime. I wouldn't send someone to the lethal injection for petty robbery."

Casey nods. "You've been given background on this case. Mr. Julio Sanchez is charged with two counts of murder, two counts of rape, and one count of kidnapping. If Mr. Sanchez was found guilty on all those charges, would you consider the death penalty then?"

Number Two looks at Casey intently, thinking. His eyes wander to where Kathleen is sitting. He doesn't know this girl. He doesn't know anything about her. He hasn't watched the news – he hasn't had the time – but apparently this girl has been a big story. She looks down as the assistant district attorney questions him, and his heart pains him a little. He can see the bruises on her that have obviously softened, and he can suddenly imagine what they would have looked like a month ago. Bright blue and black. Painful.

"Mr. Jansen?" Casey questions.

He comes out of his reverie. "Murder, rape, and kidnapping, he's charged with, did you say?"

"Yes, sir. All three of them."

He takes just a moment. Kathleen looks up and those mesmerizing blue eyes catch Mr. James Jansen's for a moment. They are the same color as his stepdaughter, the stepdaughter he has come to love as his own. "No, ma'am. I'd have no problem with it. That is, of course, if he was found guilty."

"Thank you, Mr. Jansen."

Casey sits down for a moment. Trevor stands up. "Mr. Jansen, do you have any children?"

He shifts uncomfortably. "None who are biological, no."

"Stepchildren?"

"Well, my fiancé has a daughter, Sylvia. Nothing's legal or anything, but I'm her primary male caregiver."

"I see," Trevor agrees. "And how old is Sylvia?"

"She'll be fifteen next month," he says with a certain sense of pride.

"Ah," he nods. "Your background information told you that one of the star witnesses would be the sixteen-year-old alleged victim of Mr. Sanchez's. Now, that's one year older than your daughter. Do you think, Mr. Jansen, that you would be able to control your emotions with this trial? Do you think that you could remain fair and impartial knowing that your daughter is so close in age to the alleged victim?"

He stares at Kathleen, hoping to catch her blue eyes. If he could just have one more look, he could prove to himself that he doesn't see Sylvia in them.

"I could do it. My daughter has nothing to do with this trial, and the witness is not my child. I could remain fair."

"Are you sure?"

Mr. Jansen doesn't seem to like this man. "I guess we can't be sure unless I'm chosen as a juror. But I'm as certain as I could be."

Trevor nods. "Thank you, Sir."

Casey stands. "Number Sixteen, Ms. Roberts, have you been able to watch the news lately?"

"No, I don't watch TV all that often. My work tends to take up most of my time. Other than the occasional _ER_ episode, I'm afraid I don't."

"So you haven't seen a lot of the coverage of this investigation and trial, have you?"

"No, ma'am. Although, my friends at the office have mentioned it in passing, but like I said, I tend to get very involved in my work. I barely even remember what they said about it."

"So, you wouldn't have any preconceived notions about this case?"

"What I would know about this case would come strictly from what I hear in this courtroom."

"This trial is bound to get large media coverage. Would you have a problem with being sequestered and having the obligation of refraining from any media coverage and personal investigation?"

"Meaning I wouldn't be able to look up any information on my own?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"No, I'd don't think so. I don't have children or anything, so I don't think anything like that would be a problem."

"And your feelings about the death penalty?"

"I'd have to make sure every single piece of evidence implicated the defendant."

"Thank you."

"Ms. Roberts," Trevor says immediately as Casey sits down. "Have you or anybody you've known been the victim of a rape?"

Eileen Roberts' eyes go wide. "I-I-Well…ye-yes. My sister, Cynthia, was raped about ten years ago."

"Tell me, was your sister's rapist ever caught?" he asks coyly.

Eileen plays with her fingers, while Kathleen inadvertently does the same. "No, Sir, he wasn't."

"Charges were brought against him though, weren't they?"

"Yes, they were, but a grand jury didn't indict him."

Eileen struggles to breathe, and she looks at a blonde-haired girl who sits with a man, and a younger boy. Cynthia had the same color blonde hair, but once she reached nineteen, the blonde streaks were darkened with black dye. She misses the crown of blonde now more than ever.

"Ms. Roberts, tell me honestly if you'd be able to sit there, listen to testimonies of acts of degradation, many that resemble your sister's, and judge impartially, the man accused of performing those acts. Do you think you could do it? Do you think you could judge him without prejudice, without taking what happened to your sister, and the fact that she never got justice, into consideration?"

Eileen blinks once, and remembers how her sister cried for hours when Matthew P. Stamski was acquitted of any and all charges. "Yes, Sir."

"Are you sure?" he says, almost tauntingly.

"Positive."

---  
**Stabler Residence  
-4:46pm-**

"We're home!" Dickie announces as the three of them enter the house. Dickie takes off his coat, flings it on the hanger, and heads up to his room. Kathleen and Elliot follow behind.

"In here!" Kathy responds from the kitchen. When Kathleen and Elliot enter, she looks up. "How'd it go?"

"We only got four that we wanted," Kathleen says, leaning against the counter.

"And we got three more that were second-choices," Elliot adds, taking a bottle of water out of the fridge, and loosening his tie. "We did really well, considering everything."

"I just wish we'd got Number Sixteen."

"Honey," Elliot begins, holding out his arm that Kathleen falls into the side of, "We did really well. As far as I'm concerned, this was a victory for us today."

Kathy moves the stray hair out of Kathleen's eyes, and comforts her daughter. "I don't know about you, but I'm gonna trust your dad on this one."

She nods against her father's chest. "I know. I'm just still…I don't know. I'm just still so unsure about all this."

"We're all in the same boat, honey," Kathy soothes.

Kathleen sighs against her father. "I know." She straightens herself, away from her father, and runs a hand through her hair. "I'm just…I'm gonna go upstairs, maybe take a shower or something," she shrugs.

Kathy inhales and nods at the same time. "Okay, baby. Let me know if you need anything."

"We'll be down here," Elliot says, kissing her forehead.

Kathleen trudges up the stairs, and her door can faintly be heard closing.

"So, did it really go that well?" Kathy asks as she gets out various vegetables for dinner.

Elliot takes a slug of his drink. "Went better than she thinks it did. This is just the tip of the iceberg, Kath."

She sighs. "I know…"

"How'd Liz's thing go?"

"Great," she says, nodding. "They got first in their division, and they're headed off to the national competition in Orlando in another two weeks or so."

"Good," he agrees, nodding, and taking another slug. "Where's the princess, so I can go congratulate her?"

Kathy smiles, as she brings the knife to the head of the lettuce. "Upstairs, probably calling everyone on this side of the county to tell them how she did."

Elliot chuckles. "Alright, well I'm gonna head up. You need any help here?"

"Nah. I'll be okay," she shrugs. "Go lay down for awhile."

Elliot kisses Kathy on the cheek, and he too, moves up the stairs. She is left preparing dinner by herself for almost a half-hour, before Kathleen saunters down the stairs in sweats and a tank top, which reveal some of her healing bruises.

"Hey honey," Kathy greets, as she turns on the stove.

"Hi," she replies, and sits on a stool that sits across from the small counter.

Kathy looks at her downcast eyes, and focuses her attention on her daughter.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Oh honey," Kathy soothes, "I'm sure today went better than you think it-"

"It's not about today," she sighs. "This isn't about today."

"Okay," she submits slowly. "Then what is this about?"

Kathleen blows out a breath. "Ms. Novak and I talked after jury selection."

Kathy racks her brain to try to remember who Ms. Novak is. She only vaguely remembers meeting her. Power suit. Heels. Red hair. She doesn't remember hating her, but if she said something nasty or discouraging to her daughter, Kathy knows it can be very easy for that respect to turn to hate.

"And what did she say?"

"We started talking about when I testify," she replies simply.

She looks at her daughter once again, fidgeting with her fingers. Kathy knows this nervous habit. She had it herself when she was Kathleen's age. Kathy had done it before science tests, before big football games when Elliot would play and she'd be in her cheerleading uniform. She'd even done it when she was eighteen, waiting for the timer to go off so she could look at the pregnancy test, and then later when she had to tell Elliot and their parents a child would be added to the family.

It means she knows something will happen that she wishes wouldn't, and there's no changing it.

"Honey," Kathy starts, placing a hand over Kathleen's folded ones. Kathleen looks up at her, and Kathy keeps the stare. "Just talk to me, kiddo."

"She said that I have to get comfortable with telling people what happened to me, how it happened to me _in detail_, because when she asks me questions in front of the jury, I don't want to appear emotionally unstable."

"Emotionally unstable?"

"Those were her words," Kathleen says, biting her lip.

Kathy sighs. "Well, maybe she's right-"

"I don't _want_ to be comfortable with it, Mom."

Kathy looks pained, and tries to find words of encouragement.

"She said that I have to be so comfortable with it, that I might want to consider just calling up some of SVU and telling them over the phone, over and over, so I get used to it. I have to get used to saying words like _vagina_, and _penis_, and _rape_, and _oral sex_."

"Maybe that's true, kiddo. Ms. Novak _has _done this before," Kathy says, finding any words she can.

"I haven't told _anybody_ what happened to me. Nobody. Except Olivia, and I _had_ to tell her because of the statement."

Kathy caresses her daughter's cheek softly, and swallows her pride. She wants to be the only one her daughter talks to. She wants to be the only one who can understand, the only one her daughter runs to. It's her one wish she knows will never come true.

"Well, maybe you should call Olivia. Talk to her about it; tell her what happened. I'm sure this isn't the first time Olivia has done this either." She says, her voice gentle

Kathleen nods against her mother's palm, and Kathy gives her a smile. She stands to continue dinner.

"Mommy?"

Kathy almost winces at the use of her title that was only used when her kids were younger, or they were hurt. "Yes, honey?" she says, turning around.

"I was thinking-I don't know…Maybe I could…"

"Kathleen," Kathy sets straight.

"I was wondering if I could practice my first time with you," she admits meekly.

If this means what Kathy thinks it means, then maybe her wish has come true. "You…you wanna tell me what happened?"

"Only if you wanna listen."

Yes, her wish has come true.

"Of course, honey. Of course you can tell me."

"I wanna tell Daddy, too, but I'm just not ready yet."

"That's okay, Kat. I'm sure-"

"What about dinner? I'm not distracting you, am I?"

"Oh that can wait," Kathy says, waving her hand in the air, passing the thought away.

Kathy, and her daughter move to the living room, and Kathleen begins to tell her story. The story of how her life changed. Of how nothing will ever be the same. How she was hurt to the worst degree. But also a story of how she always has the hope that tomorrow will be a little easier to live through, with her family and friends at her side.

"Well, me and Greg went to the library, and Dad called to say that I should get home. Greg said he wanted to walk me home, but he didn't have time. I thought he was just being paranoid and overprotective, and told him I would be alright. I guess, I don't know, I guess I was…"

Kathy holds on tight to her daughter, and listens to her words. She wishes she could make it better for her, do all this for her, but she knows that just by Kathleen simply telling her every detail of her ordeal, they may be going in the right direction.

---  
A/n - More to come soon! Thanks for sticking by me. I love you all! So, until next chapter, adios! - Jessica


	22. Cheering and Pregnancy Tests

Title: Beautiful Soul  
Chapter 22

Disclaimer: Dick says they're not mine and they never will be. I begged him with sugar and a cherry on top. He just said that he doesn't like cherries.

Okay, I'm back! And I'm a writing demon. Hope you enjoy.

And a reminder, Lizzie's in cheerleading, and her team made it to nationals in Orlando, so that's where Kathy and Lizzie are going. Kathleen's best friend and love interest is Greg Dean. Remember that smooch on Christmas? And notice there's almost a two-week time difference between the first bit and second bit.

Enjoy.

---  
**Stabler Residence  
January 15, 2004  
-1:34am-**

Elliot finally gets to his bedroom after falling asleep on the couch while watching a football game. Dinner had been a quiet affair, which scared him more than if it had been loud, obnoxious, and rambunctious. Kathleen hadn't said much, while the twins went on scarcely about how they hated that school was back in session.

But Kathy was the one he had been worried about. Ever since she was in high school, Kathy could say anything to make an uncomfortable situation better. She avoided awkward silences and could pull any conversation starter out of a hat. But tonight, when silence fell upon the table, and the twins looked around suspiciously, wondering who was going to say what, he saw Kathy. Her face was down, and she picked at the food on her plate.

He hadn't said anything to her at the table, and she had gone straight up to their room when the twins offered to finish the dishes for her. He was going to follow, to see what was wrong, but Dickie had asked him if he wanted to watch the football game, and with so much attention on Kathleen these days, he figured it might be good to sit and have some time with his son.

He had fallen asleep by the last quarter and when he woke up hours later, a blanket had been put on him, the TV had been turned off, and the lights had been dimmed. He'd stood up, padded his way up the stairs, then down the hallway. He had checked on Lizzie, who had fallen asleep with her head in her history textbook, gave her kiss, put the covers over her, and put the textbook on her nightstand. When he checked on Dickie, he had looked like he was freezing, with two blankets over him.

He had then walked into Kathleen's room and gave his dozing daughter a kiss on the cheek. She had looked comfortable with one quilt over her, but he looked over at the chair that Kathy had been occupying for the past month, and saw that it had been abandoned. He had tucked his daughter in tighter and walked to his room.

He now stands at the threshold of their bedroom, and sees that his bed is still neatly made from this morning.

"Kath, honey, you in here?"

He can hear her shuffling, so he goes to their bathroom.

"Kathy?"

"I'm in here," she says meekly. "Right here."

He turns the corner, and sees her washing her face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she says into the towel she's drying her face with. "Nothing's wrong."

"You're not convincing," he chuckles.

"I don't need to convince anybody." She gives him a small smile, and moves past him to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Why won't you talk to me? You don't talk to me," he says, leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom.

She gives him a look. "Now I know you've heard about the pot and kettle."

"I just want to help."

She looks into his pleading eyes, and deflates. She says it all in one breath.

"Kathleen told me what happened to her."

"What do you mean?"

"I know you're not that thick, Elliot."

His eyebrows raise temporarily, and he crosses his arms. He tries to ignore the tiny twinge of jealousy in his gut.

"She told you what they did to her?"

She nods. "Every detail." She breathes and looks away from him. "Jesus. I had imagined a lot of things, but I didn't think-I didn't want to think that those kinds of things-"

She finally breaks down and sobs into her hands. Elliot hurries over, sits on the bed next to her, and places his arm across her back. She leans into him, and loses the little bit of control she's had since Kathleen talked to her before dinner.

"It's okay. It's okay. She made it through, Kathy, and that's all that matters," Elliot soothes.

"I know, it's just…God, Elliot, the way she told me everything, it was like she was living through it all over again," she says softly, almost on the brink of tears. Like she's been fighting for something this whole time, but finally realizes she may be defeated.

"But she told you. As much as it may have hurt coming out, she wanted to tell you."

Kathy looks up at him. "She wants to tell you, too. She really does want to tell you, but she's just not-"

"She's not ready," he completes. He knows this all too well. "I know. She's not ready to tell her cop father how some guy he threatened hurt her."

Kathy takes his chin into her hand. "Is that what you think? That she doesn't want to tell you what happened because you're a cop? Because your squad is investigating this?"

"Well, let's be honest, that can't make it easier," he says, standing up and moving to the dresser.

"I'm sure it can't, but that's not the reason why she's not ready to tell you."

"You have a better idea?" he asks, almost angrily.

"You're her father!" she retorts back harshly, in a forced whisper. "You're not a cop to her, you're her daddy. No girl is going to be ready to tell her father how some man brutalized her, no matter who that man is or who her father is or what he does for a living."

He pulls his t-shirt over his head, and finds his wife staring at him when their eyes finally meet.

"Please say you understand that, Elliot."

He looks down, and tries to look into his wife's eyes as intensely as she's looking into his. "I-I don't know."

"Elliot!" she whispers again.

"Oh come on, Kathy, you can't honestly tell me that my job has nothing to do with this! That the fact I'm a cop, especially with SVU, makes things anything easier on her or this process."

Kathy moves in closer to him, and rests her hands on his shoulders. She reaches in and kisses him, and stays in his embrace for a minute.

"She loves you so much, Elliot," she says into his chest. "And she'd love you just as much if you were a doctor, or a firefighter, or, Jesus, even a plumber. She just wants to make you proud, make you see that she can be brave. That she can stand on her own two feet. And she can't show you that until she knows it herself."

Elliot runs his hand through Kathy's hair and kisses her forehead.

"I love you."

Things can always be ignored with these three lovely words.

"I love you, too."

---  
**Stabler Residence  
January 27, 2004  
-7:36am-**

"We're leaving!" Kathy yells up the stairs to the rest of her family, as she and Lizzie stand at the door.

Dickie walks down the stairs, and stops in front of his mom. "You sure you left enough money for food? Because you know Dad isn't exactly Emeril."

Kathy laughs, and runs her hand over her son's head. "There are plenty of frozen dinners I made, and your father has some cash if the three of you can't manage to turn on a microwave or stove." She smiles, and then picks up the suitcase next to her. "Oh, and Dickie, if something happens with dinner, ever, your sisters are the first ones to call."

He chuckles. "Alright, Mom."

"Now say good luck to Liz, and then go load these in the trunk."

"What am I? Manual labor?"

"Nah, manual labor would be carrying your sister's luggage."

"Ah, geeze," he says. "Alright, good luck, Liz. Don't fall, trip, or drop somebody, okay?" he says to Lizzie, as she comes down the stairs, dressed in her competition suit. "I mean, this is a national competition, in _Orlando_, with cameras and everything. Don't screw this up, alright?"

Kathy smacks him upside the head as she passes. "Be nice."

"Thanks, D," Lizzie remarks, as she reaches the final step. "I'll do my best-"

"Elliot! Kathleen! We're leaving!" Kathy yells again.

"Don't you just love Mom during nationals?" Lizzie says under her breath.

"Yeah, 'cause you're a real peach yourself," Dickie says to himself as he take a suitcase out to the cab.

"Alright, kiddo, break a leg," Elliot says as he hugs his youngest. "I've got the recorder all ready, and we'll be watching for ya on ESPN."

"Okay," she smiles. "Hey, Dickie, who would've thought? I get on ESPN before you do!"

Dickie flashes a sarcastic smile at his sister, as Kathleen comes down.

"Good luck, babe. And hey, don't do anything I wouldn't do," she winks.

They laugh, and then Kathy gives hugs and kisses. They're out the door, and the three remaining Stablers relax against the couch.

"You gotta get ready for school, kid. You don't wanna miss the bus," Elliot nudges Dickie.

"Oh, come on, Dad. Lizzie gets to miss school for the rest of the week! Why can't I just miss today?" he pleads.

"Lizzie got all the work she's gonna miss ahead of time, and finished it all. How about you?"

Dickie sees he's defeated. "Alright, I'll be ready in a couple minutes."

Kathleen begins to put a movie on, as Dickie makes his way up the stairs, and Elliot begins to drift.

These past weeks have been bit of a whirlwind. Things have come back to some sense of normalcy, with the twins back in school, and Kathy going back to work. Kathleen hasn't returned to her school just yet, but a couple days ago, he and Kathy had gone down to have a conference with her teachers. They received her make-up work, and Greg promised to work with her on the lessons and turning in work. She'll probably have to make up some classes or finals with summer school, but Elliot supposes that they'll cross that bridge when they get there.

Greg had been around the house more often as well. Kathleen didn't keep in much contact with her friends anymore; Greg was the only one she allowed to come see her. They worked on schoolwork together everyday after school for a couple hours, and most times, Kathy would insist that he stay for dinner.

Elliot didn't mind Greg all that much, but the minute he saw that Greg liked his daughter as more than just a friend, and had witnessed the kiss on Christmas, Elliot began watching him like a hawk. But seeing his daughter smiling more because of his presence, and hearing her laugh again, Kathy had told Elliot that he couldn't hate Greg all that much.

And he hates to admit that she's right.

Elliot had yet to return to work as well. He wants to be with his daughter while she waits for the trial to begin. He wouldn't be able to focus properly, therefore not being able to watch Olivia's back as he swore he would always do. He and Kathy had also talked, and agreed that maybe he's not ready yet to carry a weapon on a day-to-day basis.

Coming to these conclusions weren't easy, but when his daughter snuggles into his side, he realizes that home is the only place he wants to be. And being right by his daughter's side has to be his only focus.

"Daddy?" Kathleen breaks his train of thought.

"Hmm?"

"I love you," she says simply.

He smiles and strokes her arm. "Back at 'cha." He smiles as he leans back against the couch. "So, is this that the dancing movie again?"

"No," she says with a hint of laughter. "It's a different one. This one's got Bette Midler, and Diane Keaton, and Goldie Hawn, and that other woman…Stockard Channing."

"Uh oh, you're mother likes this one. That means it's a chick flick."

"Yep," she nods. "Build a bridge, Daddy, and get over it."

Elliot and Kathleen both laugh. "What did you just say?" he says, his eyebrows perched.

"You heard me, old man. I know you're not going deaf yet."

They laugh once again, and Elliot's heart swells, because the daughter he once knew looks like she's coming back.

---  
**SVU Squadroom  
-3:43pm-**

"Alright, kiddo, I'll talk to you later," Olivia says into the phone.

"Thanks for this, Olivia," Kathleen responds. "I don't know about you, but it feels weird everytime I do this. I just appreciate you helping me."

Olivia smiles as she continues typing on her computer. "It's no problem, and if it means anything, I think you're getting better."

"Really?"

"Absolutely."

"It still feels weird calling you up and just telling you what happened over and over again."

"I know, but-"

"I know," Kathleen chuckles. "Some things just have to be done. I really gotta go, though. I just saw Dad head into the kitchen to start dinner."

"I thought your mom made everything ahead of time. All he had to do was turn on the stove."

"So you can see where my concern lies."

Olivia laughs, and closes a file, shifting the phone from between her shoulder and ear, to her hand. "Good luck with that."

"Thanks," she chuckles. "Dad, no, you're not supposed to leave the plastic wrap on. Okay, Olivia I see you later."

"Bye, kiddo."

Olivia hangs up the phone and places it back on the receiver. She chuckles to herself, and then places the file in her desk drawer. When she looks up, a boy with mail enters.

"Hi, can I help you?"

"Yeah, I got an envelope here for a Don Cragen," he replies, holding up the large yellow envelope.

"His office is straight ahead," she says with a pointed finger. "He should be available."

"Thanks."

The boy drops off the mail, and Olivia goes back to her computer. Only moments later, Don comes out of his office. "Olivia, can I see in you my office for a minute?" He disappears back into the darkish room.

John and Fin exchange a look. "What did you do this time?"

"Guess we'll find out," she responds, getting up.

"What's up, Captain?" she says, closing the door behind her, and taking a seat.

He sits, pushes his chair all the way up to his desk, and folds his hands. "Olivia, I understand that we all have lives that exist outside this precinct," he begins.

"O-okay," she replies, slowly.

"And I know that some things have to be kept personal, but I'd like to think we can count on each other not only while we're on duty, but for the personal stuff, too."

"I know I can count on each and every one of you guys, but Don, I really don't understand where you're going with this."

Don stands up, and moves to the other side of the desk. He sits on the edge, just in front of Olivia. "You didn't mention that you were seeing anyone."

"I'm not," she replies, completely confused. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"This was addressed to come to the squad, but because I'm the captain, they just assumed to put my name as the addressee," he mentions, holding the large envelope in his two hands. He holds it out to Olivia for her to take. "Next time you take a pregnancy test, mail the results to your apartment, okay?"

Olivia furrows her eyebrows, and looks at Don, perplexed, and takes the envelope. "Pregnancy test?"

He nods. "Surely you remember taking one of those? Women's Clinic in Manhattan ring any bells?"

Olivia looks at Don, and then down at the yellow package. She takes out the first sheet, and sees her name at the top. She sees the date, and things come together.

"Oh my God."

"We'll take the appropriate measures if it's-"

"No, Don, this isn't mine."

"Olivia," he begins, as a friend, rather than her boss. "You can't avoid-"

"No, I mean, this _really_ isn't mine. It's Kathleen Stabler's."

"Kathleen Stabler?"

"I went with her when she had the test done. She must've put my name and information on the paperwork."

"And why would she do that?" he asks curiously.

She shrugs. "I don't know. You don't mind if I go find out though, do you?" she asks, standing up.

He stands up as well. "So, let me get this straight. A pregnancy test was sent to my office, which was for you, but it wasn't really for you, it was Kathleen's Stabler's results, but with your name and information on them."

"Yeah," she nods.

"Go ahead," he nods, but calls her back, "Olivia, I understand she might've been scared, but let her know next time, something like this could be considered fraud."

"Yes, sir." She looks up at him. "Did you read them?"

"Wasn't mine to read. Didn't have my name on the top, but maybe that doesn't account for much anyway," he chuckles.

"Yeah," she breathes. "I'll see ya tomorrow."

She opens the door to find John and Fin right outside. "Hey," they say in unison.

"So, what's this we hear about a pregnancy test?" Fin asks first.

"Nothing," Cragen answers for her. "Now get back to work."

---  
**Stabler Residence  
-4:58pm-**

"Dickie, get the door!" Elliot yells as he puts the last dish in the dishwasher, and hears the doorbell.

"Got it," comes the reply. Dickie pauses the video game, and makes his way to the front door. He peeks out the window to see who it is, and sees his dad's partner. He opens the door, and smiles. "Hey, Olivia."

Olivia looks up and smiles. "Hey, Dickie."

"Come on in," he invites. "Dad! It's Olivia!"

Elliot comes in and Dickie retreats back to his game.

"Hey, Liv," he welcomes. "What's going on?"

She grips the envelope even tighter, and offers a small smile. "I've got something for Kathleen. Can I see her?"

Elliot looks confused. "What do you have for her?"

"Elliot, please-"

"What do you have for her?" he tries again.

She stops, and glances at Dickie, so enthralled with his game.

"Her pregnancy test results," she whispers. "So, can I see her?"

Elliot rubs his hand over his face, and sits on the edge of the back of the couch. "Uh, yeah…yeah, she's out on the porch. Right through the kitchen, and through the sliding glass door."

"Thank you," she says, and touches his arm as she passes him.

She follows his directions and walks out to the porch to find Kathleen on the swinging porch bench. She's dressed in a warm sweater, and her blonde hair has soft waves cascading around her shoulders. A big quilt rests across her Indian-style crossed legs, with a large English textbook tucked in between her knees. She looks up at Olivia, with the black-rimmed glasses, and for a second, Olivia sees Alex Cabot.

"Olivia, what are you doing here?" she asks. Olivia doesn't respond quickly, and Kathleen takes off her glasses. "Olivia, are you okay?"

Olivia blinks, and takes a step closer to the swinging bench. "Yeah, I'm fine. You just, uh, you just remind me of the ADA that used to work with us with those glasses on."

"Oh," she responds. "Isn't she the one that was killed during a case?"

Olivia hates to lie. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring it up, or-"

"Don't worry about it," she says with a wave of her hand. "So, how goes it?"

"Just catching up on some studying," she responds with a lift of her textbook. "Julius Caesar. These people are a bunch of freaks. Having someone hold your sword while you run onto it is considered honorable?"

Olivia chuckles. "Apparently Shakespeare thought so."

"Yeah, well he was a freak, too." Kathleen smiles at Olivia, closes her book, and pats the space next to her. "Sit down, tell me why you're here."

Olivia does so, and holds out the envelope. "Two things. One, when you take a pregnancy test in my name, at least let me know. And, two, send them to my apartment instead of Cragen's office," she says lightly.

---  
A/n - Okay, well 23 should be out real soon. So it won't be a cliffhanger for much longer. School starting at my school this year, but I'm definitely making time for you guys and this story. Love you all for your continued support. Until next chapter, adios! - Jessica


	23. Results

Title: Beautiful Soul  
Chapter 23

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/n - Hey, hope this wasn't too painful waiting for it. And just as a side note, I noticed one or two people asking for Jim and the kids, Isabel and Joey, to make another appearance, and honestly, I haven't planned for them to come back into the story. That plot arc kinda made its purpose in the story. I'm glad to see you enjoyed them, however. They were some o fmy favorite characters to write. And if the chance comes up, I'll put them back into the plot. Anyhoo, I'll shut up so you can go on with your life and read. Enjoy.

---**  
Stabler Residence  
-5:03pm-**

Kathleen's eyes go wide. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Olivia, I didn't mean-"

Olivia offers a kind smile. "I know. Actually, it was quite amusing to see the look on my Captain's face."

Kathleen becomes incresingly worried. She just now begins to regret putting Olivia's name down on the paper. "I'm sorry, Olivia. I really am, I just-I couldn't put my-and you were right there, and-"

"It made it too real to put your own name," she completes with understanding.

"Yeah," she exhales. "It really did."

"I certainly understand that, just next time, let me know, okay?" she says with a small grin.

"I hope I don't have to take another one of these for a long time, but I will, definitely." Kathleen grins and moves the envelope around in her hands. "Have you seen the results?"

"I figured that was for you do to," she says, wringing her hands. "I can leave if you want to be-"

"No," she says quickly, grabbing Olivia's forearm. "I'd like you to stay, if that's alright."

"Yeah," she responds. "Yeah, sure."

Kathleen starts to open it, but stops. "Oh God, Olivia, what if I really am pregnant?" she says, and the scared look makes Olivia's heart drop.

"Then we'll deal with it. You have the support of so many people, kiddo. People who want only the best for you, and you can explore your options and make decisions, and see what happens. But we can't do any of that until you at least read the results."

"I don't know what I'll do if-"

"Well, no matter what the answer is, the first thing you'll do is go inside and tell your dad. Then you'll call your mom, and let her know, and then you'll decide what to do after that. Nothing is written in stone at all."

"It'll be half him," she whispers, a tear falling down her cheek that she quickly wipes away.

Olivia's heart breaks and she wonders if her mother went through the same thing. She wonders if her mother cried before she read the results, if she cried after she did, if anyone was with her. She doesn't know if she can do this.

"And the other half is you," she chokes out, staring at the ground. "And even having just half of you is going to make this child terrific." Olivia blinks away any impending tears and looks at Kathleen. "But we don't even know if there is a child. So, reading the results is the first step."

Kathleen takes in a breath and doesn't realize that she holds onto it. She opens the envelope carefully, and pulls out the papers. She reads through them, searching for the word that will mean something. It takes her a minute, and she can feel Olivia watching her.

She finds it and Olivia sees her close her eyes against the answer. Kathleen picks up the paper, and places it back in the envelope, and then faces Olivia.

"It's, uh, it's negative. I'm not pregnant," she says simply, and a tear still falls down her cheek.

"Come here," Olivia whispers. She takes Kathleen into a hug, and the young woman holds on tight.

"I know it would've been hard, but I think I would've loved it, Olivia. I really would've loved it," she sobs out into Olivia's chest.

Olivia's heart melts. Did her mother say the same thing? "I know, kiddo," she soothes. "It's okay."

Kathleen lets go and straightens herself. "I'm, uh...I should go tell Dad."

"Okay," she nods and watches her go back inside.

Olivia sits, her elbows on her knees, and her forehead in her hands. God, this had been harder than she was anticipating. Watching Kathleen open that envelope made her think of how her mother received the information of her own pregnancy. And hearing Kathleen say that she would've loved the child made Olivia feel as if Kathleen was saying she loved Olivia directly.

She realizes that this might be too much for her. She has to get home or back to the station. Maybe it's right here that this case has gotten too close to her; beyond repair. She stands, and heads back into the house. Elliot's leaning against the kitchen island, his arms crossed, and back to Olivia.

"Hey," she greets and he turns around.

"Hey," he says with an unintentional whisper.

"So, did she tell you?"

"Yeah," he says absent-mindedly. "Yeah, she did."

She nods, simply because she doesn't know what else to say. Congratulations to your daughter for not being pregnant with a rapist's child? There's just something inappropriate about it.

"Thanks for coming over, Liv. For staying with her."

She looks down and shoves her hands in her pockets. "You know it's no problem."

"You hanging in there?" he asks knowingly.

Yes, from day one, Elliot Stabler has been able to read her mind. She shrugs. "Fine."

"Olivia."

"She's an amazing kid, El." She takes a deep breath. "She said she would've loved it. That it would've been hard, but she would've loved it."

Elliot nods. "That's Kathleen for ya."

"Yeah," she says, below a whisper.

She begins to walk out of the kitchen, when Elliot calls her name lightly. She turns around and faces him.

"It might…I don't know, I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to do, but it might-maybe if you told her-"

"Out with it, Stabler," she says with a small grin.

"It might help her if you told her about your mother. About you."

"How would that help anything?"

"I don't know," he shrugs. "Maybe let her know that what happened to her isn't always bad. That maybe good things can come out of stuff like this. Good things…good people, like you."

"I don't know, Elliot," she starts.

"Like I said, I'm not pressuring you into anything." He moves past her to the living room, and she stands there by herself for only a moment.

"Her room's up the stairs and second on your left, right?"

Elliot allows himself a tiny grin before he sits down on the couch, beside his son.

---  
Olivia knocks on the door, and when she hears Kathleen tell her it's okay to come in, she slowly creaks open the door.

"Hey," Kathleen greets. She's on her bed, sitting cross-legged, with a phone still in her hand.

"Hey," she smiles. "Call your mom yet?"

"Yeah," she nods. "She could only talk for a minute, though, because Liz and her team were getting ready to do something or another. Said she'd call me first thing in the morning so we can talk more about it."

"Do you have a minute? I'd like to talk to you about something," Olivia begins meekly.

Kathleen seems unsure. "Yeah, sure. Come sit."

She motions to the spot next to her on her bed, and Olivia accepts. She sits back against the pillows and puts her feet up. Almost immediately, Kathleen snuggles into her side, her hand resting on Olivia's stomach, and Olivia puts her arm around Kathleen's shoulder.

Her heart swells for a moment. Maybe this is what it's like to have a child. To have a heart-to-heart with them. Maybe this is one of those moments parents love so much, just talking to your child, holding your child, having them against your side, realizing that tomorrow can wait, because maybe you can make this moment last forever.

"So, what did you wanna talk about?" Kathleen asks, her arm wrapping tighter around Olivia's stomach.

Olivia strokes Kathleen's hair, and places her hand over Kathleen's forearm.

"I'm not really sure how to do this, but I figure you should know."

"Okay," Kathleen says complacently.

How does she even begin anything like this? "It-it was a long time ago. My mom-she, she was raped."

Kathleen lifts herself on one elbow and looks at Olivia. "Are you serious?"

"Wouldn't joke about this," she says with a small shrug. Here it goes. "And she got pregnant. With me."

Kathleen seems only a little shocked, and continues her stare with Olivia. "Wow," is all she can get out. "Did-did they ever catch the guy?"

Olivia shakes her head. "No, they never did."

"So, she raised you all by herself," she said, more as an application, rather than a question.

"Yeah, although I'm not quite sure how she did considering the circumstances."

"Circumstances?"

The words begin to burn. Maybe when Kathleen had told her what Sanchez did to her, this is what it felt like. And now, just as Kathleen let Olivia into her world of pain, Olivia will let Kathleen into hers.

"She didn't really deal with what happened to her. Started drinking a lot, became an alcoholic. I was on my own for a lot of different things."

"That must've been hard," Kathleen says, picking at the fibers of Olivia's sweater.

She lets out a small, suppressed laugh. "Yeah…Thank you for not saying sorry. Sometimes being offered sympathy is just as bad as telling people this."

The young Stabler, who is much like her father, nods. "Can't apologize for something I didn't have control over. Something your mother didn't even have control over."

Olivia smoothes Kathleen's hair again. She can't find the right words. "Yeah, you're right."

"Olivia?" Kathleen begins.

"Hmm?"

"If it means anything to you, I think you turned out great. Really great," she says, nervous to get the words out. Nervous to show Olivia how much she means to her. She hugs Olivia tighter from the side, and she's reminded of times like this when her and her mother would be together.

Olivia smiles to herself in the midst of her tears. "Well, thank you."

"Maybe, I don't know, if the test had turned out differently, maybe it wouldn't have been as difficult to love the child as I thought."

"Yeah? And why's that?" Olivia says, stroking the young girl's arm.

"Because it still could've grown up to be as wonderful as you, no matter where it started in life."

---

"Alright, son, shut the game off, and turn the television back to normal. I've let you stay up later than I should on a school night."

For the past few hours, Elliot, Olivia, Kathleen, and Dickie had spent their time eating pizza and watching movies. Olivia and Kathleen had still been in Kathleen's room together when they heard the doorbell for the pizza. She had begged Olivia to stay, to have some fun, and while she wasn't quite sure as to why, Olivia agreed. They then went down to eat, watch whatever the kids picked, and then Kathleen and Olivia had become a team against the boys in a game of Monopoly. After the girls gained victory in the board game, they had relaxed to watch Elliot and Dickie verse each other in a video game of Dickie's.

"Ah, Dad, come on," Dickie protests, but he gets ready to do what he's told anyway.

"No, you come on. And keep going all the way right up to bed," Elliot replies with a small laugh.

He gets up, and pushes a button on the television. "Alright, I'll let you win this one, Dad."

Elliot chuckles. "Let me win? Just like you let me win this last round on whatever video game that was?"

"Yeah," his son remarks with a sarcastic grin. "Just like that."

"Goodnight, son," he says finally.

"Goodnight, Dad."

Dickie makes his way over to the loveseat where Olivia and Kathleen relax. "Goodnight, Kat," he says, and hugs her. Kathleen smiles and reciprocates, realizing how much she really has come to love her only brother. Olivia smiles as well, but doesn't expect the hug Dickie gives to her. "'Night, Liv."

"'Night, kid," she says, and when he goes up the stairs, the phone rings.

"Stabler residence," Elliot answers. He pauses, while Olivia and Kathleen begin a conversation. "Yeah, she's here…is it that important? It's pretty late…Alright, alright, she can talk, just remember she has a bed time, okay?" he chuckles.

He takes the phone away from his ear and holds it out to Kathleen. "Greg for you. Says he has to talk to you about some English assignment. Not too long, though. It's getting late and your mom will kill me if she knows I let you talk on the phone at this hour."

"Alright, Daddy," Kathleen says with a smile, taking the phone. She turns to Olivia. "If you leave before I'm off, thanks for coming down, Liv."

"Yeah, no problem. Thanks for letting me stay," she smiles.

Kathleen follows suit with her brother and heads up the stairs, and Elliot and Olivia are left in the living room.

"God, when did they grow up, Elliot?" Olivia mentions. "The first time I met the twins, they were still learning how to write. Now they're gonna enter high school pretty soon, Maureen's about to graduate college, and Kathleen has boys calling her." she says in a nostalgic voice.

"Oh, don't remind me," Elliot laughs as he reclines further into the couch.

"So, what's his name again? Greg?"

"Yeah," he confirms.

"Hate him?"

"Did once he started calling more, and not just for assignments."

Olivia chuckles. Typical Elliot. "He seems like a nice guy, El."

"Whatever," he mumbles.

Olivia laughs. "Get over yourself, Elliot."

"Just don't want her to get hurt…not after everything she's been through, not by some snot-nosed kid."

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that."

"Yeah? And why's that?"

"One, she's tougher than you give her credit for and two, I think the love-bug really bit him with your daughter, and he knows he'd be a fool to let her go." Olivia props her feet on the table. "And besides, you won't have time to worry about the sheer bliss Kathleen and Greg will be in, because you'll be busy walking Maureen down the aisle in a couple years and then staring down any of Lizzie's dates."

"Maybe it's about time you went home," Elliot says, giving his partner a playful sideways look.

"Goodnight," Olivia replies, getting up. "See ya later."

She begins to get her coat and walk out the door when Elliot stops her with questions.

"So, what's going on at work?"

"You know," she shrugs, sitting into the oversized chair by Elliot. "The usual." She wants to stop her lies. Of course it's not "usual" without her partner next to her.

"They assign you a new partner?"

No one could ever be considered a partner after you. "Nah. I'm just kind of working with Munch and Fin. Sometimes Cragen."

"Miss me?" he says playfully.

"Oh, don't give yourself too much credit," she laughs.

Things are awkwardly silent for a moment. Olivia wants to tell him that she misses him more than anything. Elliot wants her to know that while he'd love to come back, he can't rush anything. But neither of them say what they want to say.

"I probably won't be coming back…to SVU," he begins in a deathly whisper. "I'm gonna talk to Cragen about transferring."

Olivia nods. "You'll know what you need to do. I've always trusted that gut of yours."

"At least somebody does."

"Goodnight, Elliot. I'll call you later or something," she says, standing, moving to the door. "Oh, and Elliot?"

"Hmm?"

"I've never had any reason to ever doubt you. So don't doubt yourself. About anything."

And with that, she's gone.

---  
A/n - Chapter 24 up soon! I started school Friday and I have two AP classes in a row and in the morning of all times. So I have two outlines due and I just know junior year is going to kick my ass. So keep reminding me and get on me to update if you feel neglected.

Love you all! Until next chapter, adios! - Jessica


	24. The Doctor Is In Session Two

Title: Beautiful Soul  
Chapter 24

Disclaimer: Not mine.

** A/N** - I thought we had a deal, guys. I don't update for awhile, and you all send me angry emails...remember??? Anyway, junior year is one swift kick in the ass with AP classes, third year language, extracurricular activities, college inquiries and you know, breathing and sleeping are even harder. But this is for you guys and hopefully, 25 will be out soon, too. Thanks go to FaithHopeLove for betaing this like forever ago.

Love you all and enjoy.

---  
**Office of Elizabeth Olivet, Psychologist  
New York City, New York  
January 28, 2004  
-2:07pm-**

"Hi sir, may I help you?" asks the perky blonde behind the front desk.

Elliot leans against the desk, with Maureen, Kathleen, and Dickie right behind him. "Hi," he greets cordially. "I'm here for Doctor Olivet. My children have appointments with her today."

She nods and begins to pick up the phone, but Dr. Olivet walks out of a door only five feet away, with a welcoming smile that Kathleen thinks is glued on.

"It's okay, Pam, I'll take over from here," she says kindly to the receptionist as she walks over. "Elliot, hi. It's good to see you again."

Elliot takes the hand she sticks out and shakes it gently. "Same here," he lies. He wouldn't have to see her if this whole thing never happened. "Doc, these are my kids. Maureen, Kathleen, and Dickie," he introduces. "Guys, this is Dr. Olivet."

"Hi," "Hey," and "Nice to meet you," comes the chorus.

"My other daughter Lizzie was supposed to come today as well, but she's in Orlando at a cheerleading competition. I hope that's alright," Elliot mentions, absently putting a hand on Dickie's shoulder.

Dr. Olivet genuinely smiles, and Kathleen has to tell herself not to roll her eyes. She doesn't want to be here. Not with this woman. Not if she's going to be this smiley. Not if she's going to be all rainbows and butterflies.

"Of course it's not. I'll just meet her next time." She folds her hands in front of her.

"And, Maureen and I have appointments with Dr. Huang in about twenty minutes," Elliot continues. "So, if you wouldn't mind too much…"

Before he has a chance to finish, Elizabeth nods understandingly. "I'm sure we'll all be fine. Plenty of stuff to do out here when we're not in session," she says, looking at Dickie and Kathleen. She then looks at Elliot. "You two can go. Really. It'll be okay."

Elliot stares for only a moment and then goodbye kisses and hugs are exchanged. Maureen and Elliot walk out of the office with waves of their hands, and then Elizabeth smiles at the two remaining Stabler children.

"Anyone want to go first?" she asks kindly.

Kathleen rolls her eyes and looks away, beginning to chew on one of her fingernails – a nervous habit that doesn't go unnoticed by Dr. Olivet. Dickie sighs and glances at his sister, trying his best to be the man of the moment. A boy much like his father.

"I'll go first," Dickie says, trying to straighten his shoulders to avoid the pit in his stomach.

"Great," Elizabeth says, and begins to walk back to her office with a small smile to Kathleen.

"I'll be out here," Kathleen says softly, sitting in a chair.

Elizabeth and Dickie enter her office. Dickie immediately notices all the artwork and varied colors that adorn the room. While Dr. Huang's office was warm and somewhat inviting, it was nothing like this.

"It's Dickie, right?" Elizabeth begins as she sits in a large chair that's cornered right in front of her desk.

"Yeah," he says absently, and almost breathlessly, as he continues to examine the room.

She smiles with a chuckle. "You like my office?"

He offers a small grin as he glances at her for the first time. "It's nice. Really kid-friendly."

"Well, just about my whole job is working with kids," she says, crossing her legs, and leaning in forward. "You can go ahead and take off your coat if you want. Place it anywhere."

Dickie has stopped looking around in awe, but his eyes don't meet Olivet's either.

"Would you like to sit down? Plenty of places," she offers, motioning to the couch, the other large chair and the small floor that's decorated with a playful rug and small toys.

"Sure," he shrugs. He takes off his coat and gently – almost nervously – places it on the arm of the large chair, and then takes a seat in it, not looking very comfortable.

"So, as your dad mentioned, I'm Dr. Olivet," she reintroduces herself softly.

"And like my dad said, I'm Dickie Stabler," he says lightly.

Elizabeth smiles at the young man and sees the potential for a very good sense of humor. "You can call me Elizabeth if you want…if it makes you feel more comfortable about this."

He shrugs. "Actually, if you don't mind, I'd like to call you Dr. Olivet. My sister's name is Elizabeth, and it'd just be a little weird for me to call you that, too. I hope you don't mind or are mad about-"

"Of course not," she says genially. "Like I said, whatever makes you more comfortable."

Dickie nods and becomes silent. He begins shifting his eyes so he doesn't have to look her in the eyes.

"Dickie, I can understand that this might be a little uncomfortable for you. But me and you – we're just talking. No pressure about anything. And whatever you say to me is going to be kept confidential. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," he nods. "That's what the other doctor that my dad took me to said."

"Dr. Huang?" she asks conversationally.

"Yeah. He said that all doctors have to follow a rule called, uh…I forget what it's called. Something with a 'p'."

"Privilege," she offers. "Doctor-Patient privilege."

"That's it. Doctor-Patient privilege. Means that if anyone asks, the doctor can't say anything about what we talk about."

"That's very right," she smiles. "I have a feeling you're a very smart kid."

He shrugs again. "My sister's the brain of the family."

"Which one?" she chuckles.

He cracks a small smile. "Lizzie."

"Is she older or younger than you?"

"We're twins. But if you ask her, she'll say that she's older…by six minutes."

Elizabeth laughs. "What about your other sisters? How old are they?"

"Maureen's twenty-one. And Kathleen's sixteen," he answers, just beginning to relax a little.

"You like having all sisters?"

"It has its moments." He wiggles in his chair, shifting to get comfortable. "But for the most part, I wish I had a brother."

She nods. "Are you close to your sisters?"

"I guess. I mean, Lizzie and I are pretty close just because we're twins. Have the same classes, the same teachers, the same classmates, same birthday. And Maureen and I are alright. She's in college, so I don't see her as much as I used to."

"And Kathleen? You close to her?"

"Sometimes. Just depends." He looks away and closes his eyes for a moment.

Elizabeth can tell she can't go there. Not yet. "So, you have a favorite sport?"

"Three-way tie between basketball, football, and baseball."

"Wow," she laughs. "You play all of them?"

"I try to. Sometimes the seasons don't work out, but I like playing all of them."

"You must certainly be an active kid."

Dickie doesn't respond and doesn't make eye contact. Elizabeth can practically see him thinking.

"Dickie?"

The boy comes out of his reverie and looks down, shaking his head. He plays with his fingers. "I just thought that you were going to ask me all this stuff that has to do with Kathleen."

She nods and leans in a little closer, speaking softly. "We don't have to talk about her. Not right now. Not if you don't want to."

"Okay. What else do we talk about then?" he asks softly.

"Whatever you want," she says, leaning back in her chair. She rests her elbows on the arms of the chair and looks at the boy.

Dickie relaxes and falls against the back of the chair. He looks around again and his eyes fall upon a small window that looks in the waiting room. He can see Kathleen through the small slits in the almost-closed blinds, sitting in a chair with her legs crossed, her foot shaking nervously in the air. She's reading a magazine, but Dickie knows if she was asked about it, she couldn't tell you what was on the page in front of her.

"I lied…just now," Dickie says out of the blue and Dr. Olivet studies the boy.

"About what?" She wonders what it could be. Nothing they've discussed has been too deep and philosophical. Did he lie about his favorite sport?

"When you asked if I like having all sisters. I said that I would've liked a brother instead." He looks down for a moment, then glances up at Elizabeth. "I lied. I like having sisters. I love all my sisters. And I wouldn't want to lose any one of them."

He falls silent, and Elizabeth remains quiet as well, because they both know he almost did lose one.

-  
"Come on in, Kathleen, and have a seat anywhere you'd like," Elizabeth says, closing the door behind her as she invites the young Stabler in.

"Is the chair okay?" Kathleen asks, taking off her coat.

Elizabeth nods with a smile. "Go right ahead. Seems to be the popular choice today."

Kathleen sees Dr. Olivet smile at her again, and she wonders why she's here. Why does she have to do this? She seemed so eager before. When her Uncle Jim told her it could be good for her. But, after sitting in Dr. Huang's office, things just seemed so wrong. She seemed so out of place.

She's just so confused. She wants help. She really does. She wants to be able to look back and be able to say she got the appropriate help that she needed and began the healing process. She wants to be able to have that rapport with someone – someone who won't tell her deepest darkest secrets, not just because they get paid for not telling, or that it's against their oath not to. But someone who won't tell because they are willing to take on some of their patient's pain. Because they want to be trusted.

But she just can't find it in herself to sit down and trust someone she's never met. It's a fight within herself and her mind everyday to trust her parents and her siblings. She knows logically she can, but something just stops her inside from doing so. So it comes even harder to trust someone she's never talked with before about anything, let alone the one event that turned her life upside down.

"So, where do we start?" Kathleen asks softly, sitting down in the overstuffed chair.

"Wherever you'd like," Elizabeth responds kindly. "But I'd like to get to know you first."

"What do you want to know?" she asks, almost suspiciously.

"Well…what are some things you like to do?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Elizabeth can begin to feel the intensity of the session. That Kathleen Stabler, just like her father, has walls built all the way around her, and she's slow to knock them down herself, let alone have someone help her with it. When George talked to her about referring Kathleen to her office, she was more than willing to accept. George warned her that she was difficult to talk to at times, but she was certainly determined and even endearing.

She doesn't know how to approach the young girl. Does she want to talk? Does she want to be here? Does she want help? Will she talk? Will she trust?

"Just trying to get to know who you are. That's all."

"Well, what I like to do has nothing to do with this session or why I'm here," she states coldly.

Elizabeth nods to herself and leans closer to Kathleen. She's calm in her approach. "What does this session have to with, then?"

"My rape. My kidnapping. What those bastards did to me." Elizabeth can see the tears on the girl's cheeks and knows the tough chick exterior she puts up has got to be tiring.

"You want to tell me about what they did? You want to talk about it to me?"

Kathleen looks up. Yes, of course she does. She wants to be comfortable telling people. But she remembers how much it hurt to tell Olivia. To tell her mother. And she doesn't want to hurt anymore. "Not really. At least not right now," she admits softly.

"Okay. That's fine," she nods, and adds an encouraging smile. She was expecting a flat-out, no contest, resounding 'no'. Maybe they're already making progress. "So, what do you want to talk about until then?"

"I don't know why I'm here."

"You're here for a session because something very life-altering has happened to you and your family. So, perhaps, you can begin the healing process."

"No, I know why I'm in therapy." She crosses her arms tightly across her chest. "But I don't know why I'm here with you. Why didn't I go back to that other doctor that Mom and Dad took us to?"

"Dr. Huang referred you, your brother and sister to my office-"

"I know that," she says flatly. "But why? Why did he refer us to you? Why not stay with him? He didn't like us? Didn't want to deal with our problems?"

"No, that's not it all," Elizabeth says, leaning back in her chair. "Dr. Huang knows me, the kind of practice I run, and the kind of patients I see. He thought that you and your siblings would have more effective sessions with me."

"What kind of practice do you run? What kind of patients do you see?"

"I'm a child psychologist-"

"I'm not a child," she says forcibly. She refuses to talk to someone who sees her as a little kid. As someone so naïve and vulnerable.

Elizabeth nods and offers a small grin. "You certainly are more mature than some of my other clients, I'll give you that. But you have to agree that sixteen hardly means you're an adult, either."

"But sixteen does mean I'm a little past sitting on the floor, coloring about my feelings."

Yes, when George said that Kathleen was difficult to talk to at times, he certainly had a valid point. "Of course," she softly agrees with a kind smile. "I think it's just my title that needs changing. When I said 'child,' I meant that I treat small children, preteens, and adolescents alike."

"So, you've treated other sixteen-year-olds?" she asks softly, like she's almost apologizing for her harsh tone just moments ago.

"Of course," she says, encouraging her softly. "I don't want you to get the impression that you were referred to me because someone thought you were just a mere child. You were seen as a mature young woman, and Dr. Huang believed you and I would be very effective together, and I respected his professional opinion."

"So you took me on as a client, even though you didn't know me?"

"That's what I wanted to use this session for," she smiles.

Kathleen offers a small grin. "I'll admit it, Doc. I just don't know where to start or how to do this. And I'm not always good when people just ask me questions. Feels like I'm being interrogated. Even if that's not what you intended."

"I can understand that," Elizabeth nods. "So why don't you ask me some questions?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Ask me questions," Elizabeth insists. "This doesn't have to be a one-sided session. Maybe if you ask me some questions, you won't feel so interrogated when I ask you some. And I'm sure you would like to get to know me, just as much I want to get to know you. So, go ahead, ask me anything. I'm an open book."

Kathleen gives her a confused look, and Elizabeth smiles, persuading her. "Okay. Are you married?"

"Going on five years now," she says, leaning back into her chair again, and holding up her left hand to show off her ring. "His name is Christopher."

"Have any kids?"

"I have one daughter named Lindsey."

"How old is she?"

"She'll be three next month," Elizabeth answers with ease.

"Why did you want to become a psychologist?" Kathleen asks, finally beginning to feel comfortable. She now feels genuinely curious about this woman.

Elizabeth laughs to herself, remembering her childhood memories. "My grandfather always used to tell me stories about anything. He'd always sit with me on the front porch, and I loved hearing him speak. And when I grew older, he told me that I was always the best listener," she says. "I really wanted to help people as a career, but I didn't have the stomach to be a medical doctor or a police officer. Then I realized that I could listen and help people as a career. And still give my father the bragging rights of telling people he had a doctor for a daughter."

Kathleen laughs softly to herself. "Sounds like a good plan. Why work with kids?"

Elizabeth shrugs. "I found that children need just as much help as adults sometimes, but they have less people to go to. They have fewer resources to get help. And I wanted to be their advocate."

Kathleen nods. "You still like your job?"

Elizabeth shrugs slightly. "My job has always had its up and down days, but I've found that the good days outweigh the bad. And that makes it worth while. And I'll always like a job that's worth while."

"I think I'm all out of questions for right now," Kathleen says, with a small laugh.

Elizabeth smiles. "Well, can I ask you some questions while you think of some more?"

"I guess…I mean, yeah, sure. Go ahead," Kathleen says, half nervous.

It doesn't get lost on Elizabeth that Kathleen has taken a step forward, whether or not she realizes it. "Do you have a favorite subject?"

"I really like science. Especially biology and genetics."

"Do you want to be a scientist when you grow up?"

"Maybe," she shrugs. "Maybe a researcher, or a chemist, or a molecular biologist. But something in that field."

Dr. Olivet nods. "Sounds interesting." She pauses for a moment, looking at the young girl, and continues. "Do you have a favorite color?"

Kathleen realizes that at Dr. Huang's, she refused to answer these kinds of questions. She refused to talk about favorite colors and friends. She flat-out said that she would not respond to them. And, here she is, answering them with no problems. Damn, this woman is good.

"Well, I have one, but I can't really name it," she says, scrunching her nose.

"Really? Can you describe it to me?" she asks, with curiosity.

This is something she really hasn't told anybody. She would've said "blue" to anyone else who asked, just because it would be simpler. But she wants to tell this woman the truth.

"Well, it's like a light blue, but it's not really aqua. It's kinda dark, but not like cobalt. It's somewhere in the middle, but it's definitely different than just plain blue. It's, uh…it's the color – it's the color of my dad's eyes. When he's really happy."

Elizabeth nods and smiles widely. "That sounds like a great color."

"It is," she agrees. "Wish I saw it more often."

"What do you think makes your dad happy?"

"Being with us. His family."

"Well, then I think you'll have plenty of chances to see it. And you have to savor it everytime you do."

Kathleen nods. "What else do you want to know?"

"What makes _you_happy?"

Kathleen shrugs. "Being with my sisters and my brother, my family, and Greg."

"Who's Greg?"

"He's my best friend. We've known each other for years." She sits up in the chair and folds her legs, Indian-style. She puts her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. "Do you think it's weird that I have a best friend that's a guy?"

"Not at all," Elizabeth shakes her head. "True friendship knows no gender, color, or any kind of categories that we humans like to divide ourselves and each other into."

"Well," Kathleen says, with a tone in her voice that means she's going to tell more. "He's more than just a friend, if you know what I mean."

"You mean you guys are romantically involved. You're boyfriend and girlfriend," she says, uncrossing her legs and crossing them again in the opposite direction.

"Yeah," she nods. "Do you think that's bad? That I have a boyfriend this quickly after my rape?"

"Well, I don't know. You said you've known each other for years. Does he make you feel uncomfortable?"

"No," she shakes her head. "Not at all."

"Does he make you do anything you don't want to do?"

"Never," she insists.

"Can you talk to him about anything? Maybe even about the rape and what happened?"

She shrugs. "Well, I can talk to him about a lot of stuff. And he always listens. But I don't really talk about the rape. But it's not because he'd feel uncomfortable with it. It's because…it's because I don't. I mean, I've only told two people what happened to me. One was the detective who took my statement and the other is my mother. I haven't even told my dad or my sister. Let alone Greg."

She nods again. "Do you think you two could talk about it together when you're ready?"

"I'd like to think so. Like I said, Greg always listens to me. Even if I'm talking about stupid stuff or things he doesn't find interesting. I mean, the boy hates science, but he'll listen to me go on and on about it."

"How often do you see Greg?"

"Just about everyday after school during the week. He's been helping me catch up with my assignments." Kathleen looks at the woman before she comes up with another question. "Is it wrong to love somebody so much when you're this young?"

"That's an opinion question. I can't give you a definitive answer. Do _you_ think it's wrong?"

"No. I just hear people say all the time that teenagers are stupid and could know nothing about love. But what I have with Greg…I really believe it's love. And if it's not, then I don't want to know what real love is. I don't want to give up what I have with him. And, besides, my parents were really young when they got married and had my sister. And I refuse to have my parents be called stupid or my family called a mistake."

Elizabeth smiles at the conviction of the young woman. "I'd have to agree with you on that one." She looks at her watch to get a rough estimate on her time, and she's surprised at her watch. "Well, Kathleen, seems our forty-five minutes were up fifteen minutes ago," she chuckles.

"Are you sure?" Kathleen asks, and Dr. Olivet finally sees Kathleen. Not the brick of a young woman that walked in an hour ago. She sees the kid in her. Not the person just trying to act strong for those around her.

Elizabeth smiles. "Yeah, but don't worry. I'll see you next week. Try to come up with some more questions for me."

Kathleen breathes. "This was easier than I thought it was going to be."

Elizabeth smiles and begins to walk the Stabler girl out. Sure, _this_ session was pretty easy. But she wonders how future ones will go. When the layers begin to be torn away, how will Kathleen respond? And when she really has to face her core issues, will she be this open?

---  
"So, how have things been at home?" Dr. Huang asks to Maureen, who tries to sit as comfortably as she can on his couch.

She shrugs. "Okay, I guess. Some things are back to normal, you know, like the twins back at school, Liz back at cheerleading, Mom back at work, but some things are still stressful, especially since the trial's coming up soon."

He nods, accepting her information. "You still attending classes?"

"Yeah, some. I don't have such a heavy course load like last semester, but I'm still taking some."

"Do you have any trouble concentrating in class?"

Maureen shrugs and looks away. "Well, sometimes. I mean, how _can't_ I? But I try to leave school at school, and home at home."

George's eyebrows rise for a moment. "And how does that work for you?"

"'S been working okay," she answers simply.

Silence falls, Maureen waiting for another question and George waiting to see if the Stabler will say anything.

"Maureen, what's on your mind?"

She's kicked out of her reverie, and looks at Dr. Huang strangely. "Other than what's been on my mind since December?" she retorts smartly.

"Is there something you want to talk about here?"

She sighs and leans back into the couch. "Do we ever get back to normal after this?"

"What do you mean?"

"I miss my sister," she says simply. "She just…she's always been so full of life, you know? I was always the one who kept quiet – kinda passive aggressive – and my sister was the one sitting in the principal's office because she called her social studies teacher a sexist, chauvinistic pig when she was thirteen. And now…now it's just different. It's like she's so scared and quiet, and I know that's not her. I think the only people she feels really comfortable with are Olivia and Greg. And maybe Mom."

"And how does that make you feel?"

Maureen rolls her eyes at the unintentionally stated, standard psychiatrist question. "I just wish she trusted me like that, you know? That she'd come to me to talk, that she'd tell me what happened to her. I wish she'd depend on me, too."

George nods. "And what makes you think she won't…within time?"

Maureen lets out a breath, and runs a hand over her face, like she's full of regret and guilt. "Because when things got tough for me, she wasn't the first one I went to."

It's silent again and Maureen continues softly.

"And I wonder if she hurt this much when I didn't. Because if she did, I'd do anything to go back and change that."

---  
"Elliot, the session doesn't work when you just sit there like that. I need some sort of communication."

He looks up at George, and the doctor is reminded of the eldest Stabler child, who looked at him like that just an hour ago.

"Sorry…just kinda thinking."

George smirks. "Point of the session is to talk about what's on your mind."

Elliot runs a hand over his thinning hair. "Kathleen told Kathy what happened to her," he says simply, softly.

George shifts in his seat. "You mean, your daughter told Kathy what happened to her, as in she discussed the details of her rape?"

He nods, and leans over, places his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

"Did she tell _you_?"

Elliot just simply shakes his head no.

"Well, I think this is a step forward, Elliot. Kathleen shared something that's very personal to her. She's beginning to reach out, to accept the help that she knows has been there for her. She's trying to get better."

Elliot nods again, knowing all this is true. "I know," he rasps.

George leans his cheek into his palm. "You just wish she had told you instead of Kathy," he prods.

"Her telling Kathy didn't bother me. I mean, Kathy's her mother, I want Kathleen to know she can always go to her mother…I just…I don't know."

"You just wanted her to tell you, too," George states.

"Yeah, I guess," he deflates. "I told her I'd wait as long as she needed me to. That I'd always be here for her. No matter what. I just wish-I just wish she really knew that."

"Maybe she does."

"Then why did she go to Kathy? Why didn't she come to me? Why didn't she tell me too?"

"You told her you'd wait for her, Elliot. You told her that you'd be there, no matter how long it took. And she decided to take you up on that offer."

"I know…and I'm not angry about it, I'm really not. I just want to be where Kathy's at, you know? I want that trust that Kathy has."

"And you'll get there with her. And her telling Kathy about what happened proves it. She's taking steps forward. And she'll keep taking steps forward, which means she will tell you what happened to her."

"It's been the first time in my life where I wish I wasn't a cop."

"You think you being a cop affects her decision at all?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course it does! You and Kathy both, I swear…of course me being a cop affects her! Of course my being a cop affects this situation!" he raises his voice, standing up and beginning to pace. "My being a cop has everything to do with this!"

"So, you think that if you weren't a cop, she'd tell you everything that happened to her?"

Elliot remains silent, looking out the window.

"You think that if you weren't a cop, everything would be easier for her?"

His tone is so soft and Elliot hates it.

"If I wasn't a cop, this whole damn thing wouldn't have happened. She wouldn't have gotten hurt in the first place."

"You became a cop to protect your family," George states simply.

"Well, that kinda backfired on me, didn't it?"

"Elliot, Kathleen loves you, that's evident. But I think she'd be apprehensive to tell you whether or not you were a cop."

Elliot blinks slowly. "And why is that?"

"You two have a unique relationship as father and daughter," he states, bringing his ankle up to rest on his knee. "Girls often go after men like their father, especially when it comes to their first times and long-term relationships. And the man she had her first sexual encounter with was nothing like you. He was violent and hostile…rough and malevolent, while you're gentle and protective, loving and compassionate."

Elliot leans against the window sill and crosses his arms, while George continues after a pause.

"I have a feeling that she's just really confused right now. She knew that she wanted to feel one thing her first time, but instead she felt something completely different."

"But this wasn't her 'first time'. This was rape! This wasn't really sex, Doc, it was power."

"Right, and she may know that logically. But she doesn't really _know_ that yet. Her body, her heart, can't really distinguish right now between sex and rape. This was her first time with anything sexual, and as far as she's concerned, she's no longer a virgin. She may even think that all sex is like this."

"She knows it isn't. Doc, she grew up with my job, and she's always had a mature understanding of sex and what is should be like. She_knows_ that sex isn't violent."

"Yes, I'm sure she does, Elliot. Logically. But that's not what she_felt_. That's not what her body knows. Everything she ever knew about sex and what it entails was invaded and taken away from her. And now, she's just a little lost."

"You think she'll find her way back anytime soon?"

"I think all you can do now is support her, be there for her, and accept whatever steps she takes forward on her own. You may not be ready for them. You and Kathy may not even realize that she needs to take certain steps. But right now, Kathleen's in charge. Kathleen knows what she needs to do, and you've just gotta go along for the ride and offer all the love and support you've been giving her from day one. Kathleen's in the driver seat now."

Elliot scoffs out a laugh and sits back down, sinking into the cushions. "And I hate it when she drives," Elliot says, with a humorless laugh.

George smiles. "Did you teach her how to drive?" he asks, and Elliot thinks it's out of pure curiosity.

"Yeah. I did. Kathy did some lessons, but it was mostly me."

George leans forward, his forearm resting across his knees. "If you were the one that taught her how to drive, then what makes you think that she won't be able to drive herself safely back home?"

Elliot looks up, his eyes widening just slightly as he realizes the metaphor George is trying to relay.

"She may make a few wrong turns, or she may be shaky when she's in her lane, but she'll come back home. She'll come back a little more experienced and then she'll be ready for her next lesson."

---  
Let's not forget about our deal...I forget about updates and you all send angry and even mean messages and comments and reviews...okay? Deal? Deal.


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